


Mr Hale

by Pigeonpost



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, COMPLETE IN 13 CHAPTERS POSTED EVERY TUESDAY, Comedy of Errors, Drama & Romance, Historical AU, M/M, M/M Sex, OOC, Poor Lower Upper Class Stiles, STEREK Adaptation Of Pride & Prejudice, Unbeta'd, Wealthy Upper Class Derek Hale, set in Britain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-05-18 15:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 112,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14855718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pigeonpost/pseuds/Pigeonpost
Summary: Derek Hale is a wealthy and respected member of the British Upper Class in 1796. He is stunningly handsome, elegant, sophisticated, athletic and intelligent. Hale is master of the vast Nemeton estate in Derbyshire and greatly envied. Unfortunately Hale is not a people person, arrogant, opinionated,  blunt to the point of rudeness,  confident, dominant, self-centered and aloof he does not make friends easily, but is loyal and protective to those he cares about. When his close friend Jordan Parrish takes a  house in the country, Derek finds himself thrown into the society of the Stilinski family.  The sisters: Lydia, Allison and Erica, sons: Stiles and Isaac and their parents-the long-suffering Noah and the social climbing nightmare, Claudia. Unmarried, Derek is considered a prize catch, but he only has eyes for Stiles....(You may never think of Mr Darcy the same again!)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Pride & Prejudice is Public Domain - No copyright involved.  
> 2\. This is a STEREK adaptation of Jane Austen's plot written in my own words- No plagiarism.  
> 3\. Kudos goes to Jane Austen for the original plot- It's not mine.  
> 4\. I own nothing you recognize but original characters and this version of the story.
> 
> Set in 1796 Britain I have strived for historical accuracy. However this is a work of fiction and I may have altered history to suit my version of the story. 'Affectionate' displays between men were quite open, because they were assumed non-sexual. This was the era of 'the male companion' , 'secretary' or 'life-long friend'. But sodomy was a capital crime. Derek and Stiles would only get away with their relationship because of Derek's wealth and social position and because they have sisters to take on the traditional female roles for them.
> 
> British: spelling, grammar and language used for authenticity.

Mieczyslaw (known affectionately by family and friends and really anyone who met him, as Stiles) Stilinski was the eldest son of Mr Noah Stilinki and Mrs Claudia Stilinki and the second of their five children. He was possessed of four siblings, three sisters and one brother. The first, Lydia , a year his senior and three younger. In chronological order: Isaac, Allison and Erica. He is at the beginning of this narrative approaching his eighteenth birthday. Perhaps not the happy occasion it should have been, as we shall see.

He was in every way to be considered an attractive young man, possessing only two minor physical flaws. His pale skin (the envy of his peers, women and men alike) was peppered with what Stiles considered unattractive and unsightly dark moles, and his snub nose tended to turn up at the end. These defects however could be safely overlooked when compared to his attributes. He was in height approaching six feet, his back and limbs were straight and he possessed a pleasing turn to the thigh and calf. His shoulders were a masculine width and he was slender and did not require the most efficacious of male garments, the male corset. His hair was dark brown, black in candle light and in a fashionable, shaggy style known as the _owl_ , much favoured by young men of the time. Though it has to be said this was a natural turn of events rather than by any great design of Stiles himself. He had dark eyebrows, a snub nose and his mouth was generous. It has to be said that it was perhaps his _eyes_ to which the observer was first drawn. He possessed two large, whisky coloured orbs that betrayed his every thought and feeling, completely without guile. They were delicately framed by long, dark lashes, they softened his face entirely and made him the envy of most women. 

His disposition and personality, like his physical appearance had few flaws. He was good tempered, friendly and with a lively, playful nature. Quick witted, intelligent, honest and forthright, sometimes imprudently so. Encouraged from an early age by his father to speak his mind truthfully, he did so and was sometimes judged _impertinent_ because of it. He was inclined to make sarcastic remarks and hasty judgements and inclined towards stubbornness, which often meant that once his mind was made up about a person or thing, it seldom changed. He was gregarious among his small circle of friends, loyal and caring, shyer with people with whom he was not acquainted. He did not suffer fools easily and found many of the manners and constraints of society, amusing to the point of being ridiculous. He drank little.

His accomplishments were sadly, few. He rode, but not to hounds. He could shoot, but did not enjoy the activity. He neither fenced nor boxed. He fished and swam, though not at the same time. He enjoyed a game of battledore with his sisters on the back lawn, croquet less so. He played quoits, dominoes and cards, but not billiards. He enjoyed walking, was a good sprinter and read avidly, a habit acquired from his father. He could both paint and play the piano a little (the latter an unusual male accomplishment that he was forced to learn when Erica would not and the lessons were already paid for, his mother _insisted_ ) . He spoke French and read less Latin. He was knowledgeable on a wide range of topics and therefore was considered an interesting conversationalist.

Now it may be safely supposed that such a young gentleman as Stiles was much sort after as a prospective husband? Sadly not so.

It befell in his grandfather's time, that is his father's father, that the family suffered financial hardship from which it had yet to fully recover. The family home, Beacon had several mortgages encumbered upon it held by the distant relatives of the Stilinki's, the Daehler's. With little prospect of clearing the mortgages unless any or all of them make wealthy matches they are set to loose the house on the death of Mr Stilinki. Stiles therefore has little income (only the £50 per annum from his father), and no prospects. He is to be considered a poor catch as a husband and unlikely to win the eye of a necessary wealthy woman .

It had to be noted that the biggest encumbrance to his social acceptance were his mother and younger sisters. His mother Mrs Stilinki came from a family engaged in _trade_ and therefore was to be envied as marrying above her station when she became Mrs Stilinki at the age of nineteen. As a result she was an avid social climber who took the art of 'speaking one's mind' to a whole new level. She was blunt, said exactly what she felt and expressed her opinions to any close enough to hear, in loud and flamboyant terms, did not care who she offended and was in short a social disaster. His youngest siblings Erica and Allison were silly, giddy creatures, frivolous and flirtatious. Erica in particular immature and had little respect for the conventions of society. Isaac was angelic in more than just looks, disapproving and pious. He was inclined to be pretentious and lost no opportunity in displaying his oratory skills. All in all he was dull company.

As his eighteenth Birthday loomed Stiles had to make a decision. Unless he could get himself betrothed to a wealthy woman in the next year, he could not continue to live off his father and must seek employment. As the educated (at home), son of a gentleman (even one of modest means), there were few positions open to him. Principally a commission in the army (purchased), enter the church, become apprenticed to a solicitor or as a last resort, become a private tutor. Needless to say none appealed and the prospect of any of them presently vexed his mind greatly.............

 

Chapter 1

It was a glorious morning in the Hertfordshire countryside. The sun beat down and Skylarks soared into the sky, a warm breeze rustled through the long grasses and songbird's melodies filled the air..... The last weeks of Summer.

Two horses streaked out from the house across the ploughed but unplanted field. The tall, black hunter quickly outpacing the stockier grey. 

The black's rider was bare-headed, which was to be considered a scandal! 

His wealth of black hair fanned about him as the leaned forward over his horse's neck and urged greater speed. His long, pale grey riding coat flapped and snapped behind him like large wings. He reined his horse in before the hedge at the bottom of the field and turned to await his companion.

The grey pulled up beside him, his hatted rider laughing as both men studied the house nestling in the sunshine.

"Well what do you think of it Hale?" Jordan asked breathlessly."Is it not a fine prospect?" He slapped his horse's neck.

The dark man squinted against the sun and his sharp, pale green eyes studied the house.

"It is a charming house and well enough situated I grant you." He answered unenthusiastically.

Jordan's face fell. "You do not like it."

Hale looked at him sharply. "I just said, it is a charming house." He repeated. It wasn't the house he objected to, it was the unpalatable situation of his friend burying himself deep in the countryside.

"I grant you it is not as big and splendid as Nemeton," Jordan continued, "few places are. But damn me Derek we're not all as fortunate as you and I have to settle somewhere." He said slightly exasperated.

"Kate and Jennifer will hate it." Derek warned. "You'll find the society something savage."

"Since when have _you_ cared about society?"

"We are not discussing me, we are discussing _you._ " Hale's tone was a little chilled.

"Well I _like_ the country and I find country manners and society quite charming." Jordan huffed.

"In that case Parrish you'd better take it." The dark man smiled tightly.

Jordan grinned. "Thank you Derek, I shall."

On the rise overlooking the field, Stiles Stilinki studied the two men below. Like the rider of the black horse he wore no hat, although in his case it might be forgiven owing to his youth. He was following the dusty path back from Merton to Beacon through the rolling, green fields of the countryside. It was a journey he often made on foot. The family possessed only one carriage which was rarely used and the distance hardly merited saddling one of their three riding horses. He watched the men talk, grateful that his younger sisters were not with him. The men he observed were strangers and to unmarried girls of his sister's disposition and circumstance, irresistible. He imagined them bounding down the slope to introduce themselves with a shudder. As he watched the men turned their horses and streaked back toward Lake House. For a time the grey kept pace with the black and then the black raced ahead.

Stiles drew in a deep breath, savoured the sweet scent of wildflowers and continued on his way. The path dropped as it wound toward Beacon. The house sat four square and solid, if in need of a little repair. Its windows winking in the sun. Looking about him and being unobserved, he ran the last few hundred yards, for no other reason than he could.

He slowed as he came within sight of the house. If his mother should see him she would scold his behaviour as _ungentlemanly_. He walked sedately up the gravel driveway and as he neared the front door he heard familiar raised voices.

"I want to wear it today. Look what you have done to it! Mamma, mamma!" Allison complained loudly. "Erica has taken my bonnet and made it up new and says she will wear it to church. Tell her she shall not!"

Stiles could hear the foot stamp and petulance inherent her voice.

"I shall wear it, for it is all my own work. She would be a fright in it, for she is too plain to look well in it!" Erica gloated.

"No, you shall not have it!" Allison protested loudly.

"Allison! Erica! Girls! His mother's voice shrill and protesting. "Have a thought for my poor nerves! Would you tear them to shreds? ..... For goodness sake Allison let your sister _have_ the wretched thing!"

Stiles slowed and then veered to the left intending to enter the house unobserved by the side door. He passed his father's library and looked in. As usual his father was there engrossed in one of his books. He tapped on the window and his father looked up over his round spectacles and smiled and then rolled his eyes at the commotion in the house. Stiles smiled sympathetically and continued to the side door.

As he entered the house two things happened. Allison careened out of the drawing room in tears and thundered up the stairs and Lydia walked sedately from the music room. She and Stiles stared after Allison and then shrugged and linked arms.

"How was your walk?" She asked with a smile.

Stiles was about to answer..............

"Whatever is to become of us all?" Mrs Stilinki lamented. "Lydia! Stiles! _Where_ are you!?" She shrieked.

Lydia and Stiles looked at each other, rolled their eyes and smiled.

"Coming Mother." They answered in unison.

 

Mereton was possessed of a pretty little stone church and after the sermon, as was common in country districts, the congregation gathered outside to exchange local gossip. Mr Stilinki was a sprightly man of some fifty years. He possessed a full head of tawny hair, albeit receding at the temples and his sideburns flashed through with grey. In height he exceeded Stiles and was shorter than Isaac, he was still slender. Blue eyes twinkled behind round, wire rimmed spectacles. In temperament he was sober, quick witted, good natured and possessed a droll sense of humour. A boon, considering his family. 

He quickly rounded up his brood. Experience had taught him that if left to their own devices the womenfolk would chatter all day and he'd never get home to the sanctuary of his books. He was too late to prevent his wife from entering a deep conversation with Mrs Long. He walked away briskly, Stiles and Lydia following, Isaac, Allison and Erica lagging behind. He planted his tall hat firmly on his head and swinging his cane set out with a firm stride for home.

Within seconds Mrs Stilinki trotted briskly to join him, holding her bonnet in place with one hand and her bible and parasol in the other. Her cream skirt and russet coat flapping about her ankles.

"My dear! Mr Stilinki! Mr Stilinki!" She called excitedly and thread her arm through his. "Wonderful news!" She smiled broadly. "Lake House is let at last!" She thumped her husband's arm for emphasis.

Mr Stilinki never broke his stride. "Is it indeed? Well fancy that!"

"Yes it is!" Mrs Stilinki confirmed. "I heard it this day from Mrs Long!"

"Mrs Long"! He exclaimed. "Then it must be true indeed." He teased, walking on.

"And do you wish to know who has taken it?" She trotted beside her husband.

"If you are disposed to tell me my dear, then I suppose I must be disposed to hear it." He nodded, striding along.

The truth being that his wife would tell him if he wanted to hear it or not.

She leaned in conspiratorially and whispered loudly, "It is taken by a young man of _large_ fortune from the North of England. A _single_ man of large fortune my dear." She nodded eagerly. "He came down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place." They came to the narrow path and Mrs Stilinki was forced to walk behind her husband, chattering eagerly. "His name is _Mr Parrish_ and he comes with two Sisters. Miss Katherine Parrish and Mrs Jennifer Blake and his Brother-In-Law Mr. Blake. He will be in possession by Michaelmas. And he has _five thousand a year._ " She gestured excitedly. The path widened and she trotted up beside her husband. "Is it not the greatest thing for our girls? And Isaac and Stiles too." She added as an afterthought.

Mr Stilinki halted with a frown and glanced uneasily at his brood. "How so? I do not see it. What is it to do with them?"

"Oh Mr Stilinki! Why are you so tiresome? You know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them." His wife stamped her foot in frustration. "The girls that is, not Isaac or Stiles, but he may put him in the way of a suitable wife!" Her eyes lit up at the thought.

They started to walk again.

"For a single man with a good fortune _must_ be in want of a wife." Stiles commented to Lydia with a smile.

His Mother turned around. "Why yes quite so." She agreed. "And you must welcome him Stiles for he may prove _your_ salvation."

Stilinki halted again. "Why? is Stiles in need of salvation Mrs Stilinki?"

"I mean only my dear that he might provide the means whereby dear Stiles does not have to go into the Army or church."

Mr Stilinki looked confused and Stiles's face fell.

"This is the first I have heard if this." He glanced and Stiles. "I think we need to talk my boy."

Stiles nodded and glanced at Lydia.

The group walked on.

"Mr Parrish _must_ marry and who better than one of our girls?" Mrs Stilinki continued.

Erica giggled and snorted pushed and shoved Allison.

"Erica!" Stiles chided.

"What a fine joke if he chose me!" Erica giggled.

"Or me! I'm a year older than you!" Allison protested.

"But not nearly as pretty!" Erica replied.

"I am too!" She swatted at Erica and the girls chased around, giggling, pushing and shoving. Isaac glared at them.

"So Mrs Stilinki, that is his design in settling here? To marry one of our daughters?" Mr Stilinki queried with good humour.

"His _design?_ What nonsense you do talk Mr Stilinki! But you know he may very possibly fall in love with one of them....Therefore you must visit him _directly_ he comes and make our name known to him." She said emphatically.

"Visit him? No, no," he shook his head, "I see no occasion for that."

"Mr Stilinki!!" Mrs Stilinki recoiled in horror. 

"Go yourself with the girls. Still better, send them by themselves." He fought to hide a smile.

" _BY THEMSELVES!"_ Mrs Stilinki was in danger of dropping her bible in shock.

"Why yes, " Mr Stilinki continued, "you are as pretty as any of them. Mr Parrish might like you best of the party."

Erica hooted and snorted with laughter. 

Stiles turned around. "Erica!" He gave her a stern look.

She stuck her tongue out at him.

Mr Stilinki strode ahead into the house and relieved himself of his hat and cane on the hall table and strode toward the library. 

"Stiles, oblige me by attending me at once in the library." He called to Stiles following on his heels.

Stiles glanced worriedly at Lydia, she gave a sympathetic smile.

"Father will not cast you adrift from the family merely because you are eighteen." She coaxed.

"He cares not a jot for any of us! He will see us all destitute upon the streets!" His Mother entered being fussed by her two youngest daughters. "Hill! Hill!" She shrieked and the middle aged maid came running and helped her off with her coat and bonnet. "Mr Stilinki is a wicked, cruel man Hill for he refuses to visit Mr Parrish when he comes."

The maid nodded and fussed.

"There, there ma'am. I'm sure you'll be able to reason with him. All will be well."

"No Hill, it will not! We are all undone!" The party of distressed women headed into the drawing room and Isaac followed on their heels.

Stiles sighed and made his way the short distance to the library and tapped on the door.

"Come in Stiles." His father answered.

The library was a medium sized room with a large bay window, the small square panes of glass gave a view to the front of the house. It also doubled as his father's study and had a large, oak desk, a chair and two comfortable high backed and winged green, leather chairs. The rest was fireplace and book shelves. 

His father was stood leaning back on his desk, looking thoughtful.

"Sit down my boy." He coaxed pleasantly.

His father gestured to one of the chairs and Stiles eased himself into one of them.

"Do not look so grim." His father smiled and folded his arms studying him.

Stiles squirmed.

"I was somewhat surprised and distressed to hear of your plans for your future." Mr Stilinki peered over the top of his spectacles.

Stiles looked up.

"They are not _plans_ Sir." He shifted uneasily. "Mother has pointed out that I am eighteen in a few weeks and as yet I have not secured a lady of reasonable fortune, or indeed any lady. She believes my sister's prospects would be improved if I were not at home."

Mr Stilinki Grunted. "Your dear mother says a great deal without thinking, if we acted on half of what she says, we would be in a fine pickle." He chuckled.

Stiles smiled. "Nevertheless sir, am to be eighteen."

Stilinki frowned. "Eighteen generally follows seventeen, that is true enough," he agreed with good humour.

"I cannot in good conscience continue to live off the generosity of yourself and mother, and am of an age where I must go forth into the world and seek honest employment and support myself." Stiles's face and voice showed great earnestness. "The favoured employment for a young man in my position is either a purchased commission in the Army or a living in the church."

"I see...., " Mr Stilinki pondered carefully. "Y'know I am exceedingly fond of all of you, even your dear mother." He smiled. "But you do talk utter tripe sometimes and quite frankly Mieczyslaw it does not become you."

Stiles blinked, his father never called him 'Mieczyslaw' unless it was a serious matter.

"I have always considered you my boy, to be quite the quickest witted and intelligent of all my brood. Next of course to dear Lydia. She is uncommonly blessed with beauty, good nature and intelligence. " He drew a deep lung full of air. "How she manages it is beyond me."

Stiles smiled, It was true, his elder sister had all the virtues of her sex and none of the vices. She was as intelligent as any man and a good deal more so than most.

"As to your other two sisters they are quite the most giddy, silly and frivolous creatures that ever a father was burdened with. And I am not sure what is to befall Isaac." He sighed wearily. "I am sure your sisters will do well in life for there are many young men to match 'em!"

"Perhaps you are a little too severe sir..." Stiles smiled defending his siblings. Though the truth was he felt exactly the same!

"Severe you say......? " His father nodded. "Perhaps so, perhaps so... but I confess there are times I wish your mother and I had stopped at two and I had not let her persuade me of the virtues of a larger family."

Stiles frowned. He could not conceive that his sisters and brother were not loved.

"Oh do not look so worried my boy, the fancy quickly passes." His father assured him. "The point is, none of you asked to come into the world and upon your arrival your mother and I undertook to care and provide for you. Despite the protestations of doom your mother is so taken with, we are not yet in danger of being destitute. I am not disposed to cast you out merely because you reach the age of eighteen." 

He fixed Stiles with a firm eye and continued..

"Whilst I applaud your desire to support yourself,indeed there are a good many fathers wish their sons so inclined, there is no need for hasty decision. Further, having known you since the day you were born I can safely predict that you are not suited to either a commission in the Army, nor entry into the clergy and would waste your life and talents in pursuit both."

It was exactly as Stiles felt himself. But that left the vexing problem of _what_ he was to do. 

"Then sir, what _am_ I to do?" Stiles queried with a frown.

"Do? Is there any great need for you to _do_ anything?" His Father replied."Beyond continue to dwell in this house and perform the duties of a good son?"

"Sir, I really feel I must support myself," Stiles persisted, "and therefore must seek employment."

Mr Stilinki sat heavily behind his desk. "Have you quite given up thought of taking a wife?"

"It seems unlikely Sir, that a lady of good or even moderate fortune would find me an acceptable catch as a husband."

"Then they are fools." His father proclaimed. "You are a handsome, intelligent young man. Good natured, honest, lively and kind."

"I believe you to be biased Sir."

"I dare say," Mr Stilinki chuckled, "but that does not prevent me from being correct............ But I take your point. However, if any of you were to marry merely for monetary gain, I should be disappointed. Such marriages are seldom happy.... He paused a moment. "Believe it or not, I married your mother for love. She was nineteen and as you know her family is in trade. It was considered by my family that I married beneath my station and she above hers. It caused a right todo ," he nodded, " I can tell you. But I have never regretted it....Except now and again." He mumbled as an afterthought. "Of course if any of you can fall in love with a rich partner, so much the better for it would greatly ease our situation." He smiled. "As to yourself there are many careers you might pursue.... Banking, the law, accounting, medicine...." 

He caught sight of Stiles's unenthusiastic countenance.

"And there are other possibilities...." His eyes twinkled. "There are many shall we say, older ladies of wealth who would welcome a handsome young companion..."

"Father!" Stiles's eyes widened and he looked shocked.

Mr Stilinki chuckled. "Now Stiles it behoves me as your father to present before you all possibilities, and that is one. It is almost a respected profession in some circles, as is also companion to a gentlemen..."

Mr Stilinki noted that his son looked less horrified by that prospect.

"And who knows perhaps Miss Parrish will fall head over heels in love with you?"

"God.. I hope not." Stiles muttered.

"Or perhaps _Mr Prarrish_ "............ his father mused quietly.......

 

Shortly after Stiles and his father made their way into the drawing room.

Erica wafted smelling salts under her mother's nose as she lay prostrate upon the pink, brocade chaise and Allison plumped up a cushion for her head.

"Well it matters not a jot to me. I am sure Papa knows best." Isaac nodded from the window seat.

"Oh do shut up you foolish boy!" His mother chastised shrilly.

"Mamma, he's teasing you." Lydia comforted from her tapestry cushioned, wooden chair. "He will call on Mr Parrish as he would call on any new neighbour."

Stiles and Mr Stilinki walked in and Mr Stilinki crossed to the fireplace and lent on the mantle. Stiles looked about and went and sat on a chair beside Lydia, they glanced at each other.

Mrs Stilinki glared at her husband.

"Lydia, how can you say that? You know your father has a will of iron!"

"You are in the right, my dear. I will tell you what I will do. I shall write to Mr Parrish, informing him that I have three daughters, and he is welcome to any of them. " He gestured to the room. "They are all silly and ignorant, like other girls. Well, Lydia has more wit and sobriety than the rest. But he may prefer a stupid wife, as others have done before him...... There my dear, will that do?"

"What?...... No! It will not _do_ sir!" She grabbed the smelling salts and inhaled deeply. "I beg you not to write at all if........" She caught sight of her husband's sly smile. "Oh! Mr Stilinki! I swear you delight in vexing me! You have no compassion on the state of my nerves." She dabbed at her nose dramatically with a lace handkerchief.

"You are wrong my dear." Mr Stilinki gestured. "Your nerves and I have been old friends these twenty years or more."

Mrs Stilinki glared.

"You do not care how I suffer."

"Well," he crossed to her, "I hope you get over it my dear and live to see many eligible young men of five thousand a year come into the neighbourhood!" He kissed her hair lightly.

"What does it matter if twenty such men move into the neighbourhood, seeing you will not visit? Sir!"

"I promise faithfully if twenty such men move in, I'll visit 'em all!" He chuckled and left for the peace and quiet of his books.

"Misfortunes, we are told, are sent to test our fortitude," Isaac stated, "and may often reveal themselves as blessings in disguise."

Erica huffed and rolled her eyes, flopping onto the green chaise.

"Oh Lord I am hungry!"

 

Stiles carried his candle and tapped on Lydia's bedroom door.

"It's me, Stiles." He called quietly.

"Come in Stiles, I'm still up." Lydia answered quietly.

Stiles entered barefooted in his nightshirt and robe.

Lydia was in her nightdress with a thick shawl about her shoulders and sat in front of the mirror of her dressing table. 

Stiles crossed to the single bed and put the candle on the bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed. Lydia's fawn-like brown eyes tracked him in the mirror as she brushed out her long, silky, strawberry blonde hair.

"What is it?" She asked simply with a frown.

"Father has more or less forbidden me to purchase a commission or enter the church." He looked at her in the mirror.

Lydia swiveled around on the stool to face him still brushing her hair.

"Well is that not a _good_ thing? It is not as if you actually _wanted_ to."

"Yes, that is true but it vexes the question _what_ am I to do?" Stiles sighed.

"What did father suggest?" Lydia prompted.

"That I do nothing in haste. For the moment let things lie."

"Then that is what you should do." She said positively and turned back to the mirror.

"I cannot live at home forever." Stiles huffed.

"I am not suggesting you should." Lydia put her brush down and gazed in the mirror at her brother. "Are you so anxious to be gone from us then?"

"What? No of course not!" Stiles protested. "But if I could find a partner who would love me with only fifty pounds a year..... I should be tempted." He sounded wistful.

Lydia smiled sympathetically. 

"But such a person would hardly be the sensible sort and I could hardly love someone who was half out of their wits." He shook his head slightly.

"Indeed. A marriage... where either partner cannot love nor respect the other, that cannot be agreeable... to either party." Lydia agreed.

"But, beggars cannot be choosers." Stiles drew his shoulders into a shrug.

Lydia turned. "We are not _very poor_

"With the house mortgaged as it is and no prospect of clearing the debt, one of us is going to _have_ to make a very good match indeed. It is _very_ unlikely it will be me, so it will have to be one of you girls." Stiles's voice was both resigned and sympathetic. "You are quite the prettiest by far, have the sweetest nature and most intelligence. So it follows that the task is likely to fall to you to raise our fortunes."

"Oh Stiles," she sighed, "I should like........ I should very much wish to marry for love."

"And so my dearest sister you shall." He smiled and stood, picking up his candle. "Just take care to fall in love with a man of good fortune." 

They laughed.

"I shall try, just to please you, dear brother, but what will you do?"

"I am set that nothing but the deepest love will induce me into partnership with anyone."

Lydia frowned slightly.

"Goodnight Lydia." Stiles smiled.

"Goodnight Stiles.

He closed the bedroom door behind him.

 

 

Stiles was taking a turn about Beacon's small and somewhat neglected garden. Suddenly his two younger sisters appeared coming back from Mereton carrying their parcels. Erica waved her arm at him hardly containing her excitement.

"Come up to the house at once! We have such glorious news!" She called and motioned to him to hurry.

 

Mr Stilinki sat in the drawing room reading his newspaper, a cheery fire blazing in the hearth against the September chill. Mrs Stilinki occupied at her embroidery. The two girls rushed in their skirts flapping about their ankles. Erica was in the lead, as was usual and grinning broadly. Stiles followed more sedately on their heels.

"We have such good news!" Erica exclaimed.

Their parents looked up. 

"Mr Parrish is come to Lake House! Erica reported excitedly.

Allison added breathlessly. "And Sir Rafe McCall has called on him. " 

Erica glared at her.

"Save your breath to cool your porridge Allison. I will tell mamma!" She said sharply.

"I do not wish to know!" Mrs Stilinki huffed. "What does it matter to us since we are never to be acquainted with him?

"But mamma..............." Erica whined.

"He has brought _thirty_ servants," Allison persisted.

"Forty," Erica corrected.

"And he wears a blue coat." Allison added.

"And he told Sir Rafe he _loves_ to dance." Erica gloated. "And he intends to come to the next ball."

"At the Assembly Rooms."

"On Saturday!" Erica grinned.

"And he is to bring four ladies and _six_ gentlemen!"

"Nine ladies and twelve gentlemen." Erica corrected with a frown.

Stiles smiled and nudged Lydia. "So _many_ gentlemen."

"Erica! I beg you would stop!" Mrs Stilinki complained and gestured. "We will never know Mr Parrish and it pains me to hear of him."

"But mamma!" Erica pouted petulantly.

"I'm sick of Mr Parrish!" Mrs Stilinki threw down her embroidery.

Mr Stilinki folded up his newspaper. "I'm sorry to hear that. If I had known as much this morning, I should never have called on him."

Mrs Stilinki's mouth fell open. "You have called on him?!" She asked disbelievingly.

"I have. " Mr Stilinki confirmed. "And he seems a most agreeable young gentleman. I am afraid we cannot escape the acquaintance now." He shrugged.

"My dear Mr Stilinki! How good you are to us." Mrs Stilinki chuckled and clapped her hands in delight. "Well, well. Girls, girls, is he not a good father? And never to tell us! What a good joke!" She rocked back and forth laughing. "And now you shall all dance with Mr Parrish!"

Mr Stilinki rolled his eyes at Stiles. "I hope he has a strong constitution! And a fondness for silly young women."

"My dear Mr Stilinki, nothing you say shall ever vex me again." Mrs Stilinki hugged him.

"I'll hold you to that, m' dear." Mr Stilinki warned.

 

 

Saturday night the front of the Assembly Rooms thronged with people and carriages. Men in tail coats, waistcoats, cravats, tight fitting breeches with fall fronts and instep stirrups, shoes, or half breeches with stockings and shoes. Ladies in beautiful gowns with high empire waists, looser skits and some with short trains. Hair in intricate styles adorned with feathers and tiaras. Jewels, lace and finery abounded.

The Parrish carriage arrived fashionably late. A large carriage pulled by four blacks, outriders with torches to light the way. The carriage drew to a halt and the liveried footman lowered the step and held open the door. First to alight was Mr Blake a very tall, bald gentleman in a bottle green tailcoat, waistcoat and pale breeches. He stood to one side and put on his tall hat. Mr Parrish followed in a dark blue tail coat with the customary gold buttons and pale, full-length breeches, pale blue, silk waistcoat and white cravat. On his heels came the dark Mr Hale. Unlike the other gentlemen he wore no hat. His full length breeches and tailcoat were black, his waistcoat a charcoal silk with a tiny silver grey spot and a white cravat. He looked up at the timber framed Assembly Rooms with obvious distaste. Behind him Mr Parrish helped down his sister Kate and Mr Blake helped down his wife.

Kate was slender, tall, dark blonde and haughty looking. She could be best described as an _attractive_ woman, rather too cold looking to be considered _pretty_ and she smiled seldom. she wore red feathers in her hair and a gold gown. Her Sister, Mrs Blake looked nothing like her. She was dark, shorter and altogether _softer_ looking. She was passably _pretty_ in a rather _obvious_ sort of way. She wore white feathers in her hair and a pale blue gown. Miss Parrish secured Hale's arm and had the same look of distaste on her face as she beheld the Assembly Rooms.

"Shall we be quite safe, do you think sir?" She asked sarcastically. She did not share her brother's enthusiasm for the country, its people or manners.

Hale grunted for a reply and they followed Mr Parrish inside.

The music stopped and silence fell as the Parrish party arrived and all eyes turned to them. Hale hung back, his presence tended to dominate a gathering wherever he went and this was Mr Parrish's night. It was he going to settle among these wretched people, not him. 

Sir Rafe McCall was a slender gentleman with dark hair and thick grey sideburns. He had a long face and pale complexion that stemmed perhaps from lack of sunlight, an even disposition and gregarious personality. His elevation to the Peerage was, in social terms, recent and he was the first of his family to bear a title. He was possessed also of two children, the youngest Lorilee and the eldest Scott. The latter was possibly Stiles's dearest friend and would eventually inherit the title, but little wealth for they had little.. He dashed forward and addressed Mr Parrish.

"Mr Parrish! " He gave a shallow bow. "Allow me the pleasure of welcoming you to our little assembly." He grinned.

"Sir Rafe," Mr Parrish returned the bow, "I am very glad to see you. There's nothing that I love better than a country dance."Jordan answered enthusiastically. "Allow me to present my party..............."

 

The music started again and Stiles guided Isaac over to where Lydia was standing with Scott and secured a chair for him. "Well there's your Mr Parrish, Lydia." Stiles commented with a nod in the gentleman's direction. She smiled. "Scott," he lent forward, "who are those with him?"

"The blonde lady is Miss Parrish, the dark, Mrs Blake."

"Is Mr Blake the dark gentleman who looks so ill at ease?" Stiles queried.

"No I believe Mr Blake to be the very tall, thick set gentleman, the dark is Mr Hale." he answered.

"They're very elegant." Lydia sighed.

"A deal better pleased with themselves than what they see I think." Stiles nodded with a raised eyebrow.

"Pssssssst! Lydia! Stiles!" Their Mother motioned frantically. "Over here!"

They looked at each other and then walked to her.

"See the dark gentleman there," she nodded, "I have just had it from Lady MCcall that he is a Mr Hale. He is Mr Parrish's oldest, dearest friend. He has a very large estate in Derbyshire." She looked around and lent forward whispering. "He has more than _ten thousand_ pounds a year. Ten thousand!" She repeated for emphasis. " Mr Parrish's fortune is nothing compared to his. Don't you think Lydia, he's the most handsome man you've ever seen?"

Stiles looked over. He was very handsome, there was no denying that. Slender and elegant, his shoulders were firm and a good width. An inch or so taller than him but with a proud bearing that made him seem taller. The cut of his clothes emphasized his muscled chest and thick arms. His hair was the colour of coal, a thick, silky mane loosely waved and collar length. His eyebrows and lashes dark, eyebrows thickly arched over the most compelling, pale, green eyes, a straight nose, square, shadowed jaw and firm mouth. He exuded an air of dominance and arrogant self-confidence.

"I cannot help but wonder, would he be so handsome if he were not so rich." Stiles smiled. "Now if you will excuse me, I promised Scott I would converse with him." He took his leave and walked across the room to Scott, who was waiting beside his younger Sister, Lorilee and Isaac.

The music played and dresses swirled as Scott and Stiles talked quietly. Those standing at the buffet tables or seated on the chairs set at the edge of the room watched and clapped in time to the lively music. Dancers held hands, bounced, skipped and promenaded, swirled in figure of eights around each other, smiled and chatted as they danced. Erica and Allison used the opportunity to flirt outrageously with the young gentleman whether they were their partners....Or not.

Lydia stood with her mamma and Mrs Stilinki caught her breath when she saw Sir Rafe and Mr Parrish heading their way.

"Oh Lord Lydia they're coming over." She fussed her hair. "Smile and be agreeable girl! Smile! 

Lydia smiled serenely.

"Well now. Good evening to you ladies." Sir Rafe smiled broadly. "Mrs Stilinki," he gestured to her, "Mr Parrish here has expressed a wish to be acquainted with yourself and your pretty girls."

Hale stood behind his friend, not too close but close enough to catch what was being said. Mrs Stilinki dropped a shallow curtsey.

"Sir, that is very good of you indeed." She smiled broadly. "This is my eldest daughter, Lydia. " She gestured to Lydia.

Lydia smiled and curtsied. Mr Parrish gave a sweeping bow.

"Her brother Isaac sits over there." She gestured to where Isaac sat ramrod straight and unsmiling. "And my other two girls Allison and my youngest Erica you see dancing behind you." Mr Parrish turned with a smile and observed the two youngest girls laughing and dancing. He turned back, still smiling. 

"Do you like to dance yourself, Sir?" She asked Jordan with a cock of the head and broad smile.

Hale looked around as if he was not interested in the conversation. In actual fact, he was not. His keen eyes had picked out Stiles and watched him avidly as he talked with Scott.

"There is nothing delights me more madam." Mr Parrish answered with a smile. "I wonder if I might ask Miss Lydia for the next two dances? If she is not previously engaged of course."

"I am not engaged Sir." Lydia answered with a slight shake of her head and a smile.

"Good!" Mr Parrish smiled broadly. "Capital."

"You do us great honour Sir......" Mrs Stilinki beamed and hissed to her daughter. "Thank the gentleman Lydia."

Lydia blushed with embarrassment. "Mamma! Please..." She choked.

"And you Sir," She peered over Mr Parrish's shoulder, "are you also fond of dancing?"

"What?" Hale started, drawn from watching Stiles. He looked around in case she wasn't speaking to him.

"Oh, your pardon ladies, do allow me to present my friend Mr Hale." Mr Parrish flustered and blushed at his perceived rudeness.

"You are very welcome to Hertfordshire I am sure sir." Mrs Stilinki and Lydia curtsied.

Hale stared at his friend. Had he gone mad? Why him? What had he done? He was just standing minding his own business. Mr Parrish gave him his _for God's sake, Derek_ look.

Derek faced them and unsmiling inclined his head.

"I hope sir you come here as eager to dance as your friend?" Mrs Stilinski continued.

"Thank you madam," Derek answered smoothly, "I find occasion to rarely dance."

"Why then sir let this be one of the occasions," she persisted, "For I would warrant you will not find livelier music nor prettier partners." She turned to indicate Lydia.

Derek took the opportunity to bow.... "Pray excuse me ma'am."

And leave.

Mrs Stilinki turned back and her face fell as she perceived the empty space where Mr Hale had stood a moment earlier.

Mr Parrish glanced over his shoulder and smiled apologetically.

"He does that....Excuse me a moment." He hurried after Derek.

"Well I never." Mrs Stilinki huffed, "did you ever meet such a proud, disagreeable man?" She spluttered loudly.

"Mamma, he will hear you!" Lydia ducked her head.

"I care not a jot if he does!" Mrs Stilinki pulled irritably at her fringed, silk stole.

"Who does?" Stiles queried joining them.

"Mr Hale! " His Mother answered. "Stiles glanced to where the gentleman in question stood in conversation with Mr Parrish.

"He is a proud, disagreeable man!" She repeated. "And quite slighted poor Lydia."

"Mamma, he did no such thing." Lydia protested, with a roll of her eyes.

"And Mr Parrish so disposed to be kind, agreeable and everything charming." She gestured dramatically.

Mr Parrish glanced their way and Derek gave him a tight smile as if to say, _'told you so'_.

"Who is he to think himself so far above his company?" Mrs Stilinki sniffed disdainfully.

"Well, the very rich can afford to give offence wherever they go. We need not care for his good opinion." Stiles placated.

"No, indeed!" His Mother agreed.

"Perhaps he is not so good looking after all, eh mamma?" He glanced mischievously at Lydia.

"No, quite ill-favoured. Nothing at all compared to dear Mr Parrish." She agreed enthusiastically.

Lydia and Mr Parrish smiled at each other shyly.

The dance continued. Derek hung out of the way and watched Stiles keenly as he danced with each of his sisters and Lorilee. 

When he did not watch Stiles he watched his friend dance with Lydia, smiling and laughing and engaging her in conversation. He smiled and shook his head fondly when Mr Parrish glanced at him. Lydia was both pretty and charming and had her connections been more agreeable he would have no reservations about her at all............. But the dreadful mother! He shuddered. Such a pity, for he observed that his friend was much taken with her. Indeed excepting one dance with Kate, he danced the whole evening with her. Of far more interest to himself was the boy with the delightful eyes and pale skin....

He walked slowly about the room and lent indifferently against the wall close to where Stiles danced.

There was a lull in the music. Mr Parrish steered Lydia over to meet his two Sisters and Stiles released Lorilee to accept other partners and joined Isaac. He sat beside him on one of the chairs set at the side, to keep him company for a while.

The music started again and Derek walked slowly around the outside of the dance floor and hovered near Stiles. Mr Parrish bustled to him.

"Damn me Derek but will you not take a turn? There's a shortage of gentlemen." Jordan coaxed. "I hate to see you standing about in this stupid manner. I will not have it, come dance." He urged.

Stiles overheard and smiled a little.

"I will not be bullied." Derek growled quietly. "You know I do not _care_ to dance and in any case in an assembly such as this it would be insufferable." There was a sneer in his voice.

Stiles frowned.

Jordan sighed. "Don't be such a bore."

"Your sister is engaged at present." He nodded toward where Kate danced. "You know quite well it would be impossible for me to stand up with any other woman in the room."

"Good God Derek, you can suffer it once." Jordan huffed. 'Pon my honour I have never met so many such pleasant girls in my life, uncommonly pretty too." He gave Lydia a long look where she chatted with Scott.

"You have claimed the only tolerably handsome girl in the room, as you well know." Derek responded matter-of-factly.

"Dammit Derek!" Jordan turned to him with suppressed enthusiasm. " But she _is_ the most adorable creature is she not?"

Stiles noted that Hale did not reply, merely gave a wry smile.

"Look, look," Jordan nodded, "look there," he gestured, "one of her sisters Erica, she is not engaged. She's a damnably pretty thing and lively and agreeable too, I dare warrant. Ask her."

Stiles cringed a little. The thought of Mr Hale and Erica............. but even so Hale's reply shocked him.

"Not for a King's ransom!" He answered vehemently. "She is tolerably handsome I grant you. But nowhere near handsome enough to begin to tempt me."

Stiles's jaw dropped. The wretched man had condemned Erica without knowing her and his reference to her beauty or lack of it was downright rude and ungentlemanly! Further his silence on Lydia seemed to indicate he did not approve of her either! He glared at the dark man, which he didn't see because he wasn't looking his way. Stiles was indignant, furious on his sister's behalf.

"Parrish I am in no humour to give consequence to young ladies because they are slighted by other men!" Derek paused. Balls and social gatherings such as these put him ill at ease and tested his patience. He dropped his voice."Go back to your pretty partner and enjoy her smiles and soft looks. You are wasting you time on me."

Jordan sighed knowing it was no use arguing with Derek when he was in such a mood. He inclined his head and returned to Lydia's side.

Derek remained where he was, watching the dancers and contemplating speaking to Stiles. It was imprudent of course to address a young man without being introduced, but it was not as scandalous as speaking to a lady with whom one was not acquainted. He glanced at him, an interest deep in his gaze. 

The matter was taken out of his hands. Stiles stood abruptly and passed in front of him almost brushing his chest. For a moment Derek almost reached out and caught his arm, but he did not. His pale, green eyes tracked the boy across the room as he went and engaged Mr McCall in conversation. The move vexed him somewhat. What was the young man to the boy? They talked together a great deal and there was an _obvious affection_ between them. Were they in love? He did not think so, he had observed enough men and women _in love_ to be attuned to the tell-tale signs. Their's was a more general affection and yet not the same as might be between family members. He was unaware that he was staring steadfastly at the boy.

Stiles lowered his voice. "And then he said that to dance in such an assembly as this was insufferable. " They laughed. "And that to dance with any lady but one of Mr Parrish's sisters would be impossible. He said he would not dance with Erica for a king's ransom and that she was tolerably handsome but nowhere near pretty enough to tempt him!"

They shot Derek a glance.

"I confess I wonder at it. It seems uncommonly rude and unkind to speak thus of a lady with whom he is not acquainted." Scott frowned.

"I think that it is unlikely such a man's opinion of Erica would hardly improve on greater acquaintance." Stiles gave a smile.

The evening wore on. Stiles danced with his sisters and Scott danced with his and Lydia was engaged the whole evening with Jordan.

Derek didn't dance, he watched Stiles with a smouldering gaze and wished he could get the infernal boy on his own.

 

When they returned to Beacon the evening was shrilly recounted to Mr Stilinki by his wife. She paraded around the drawing room gesturing whilst Allison and Erica giggled on the chaise and Stiles and Lydia watched from the window seat. Poor Mr Stilinki sat in a winged chair and for a time persisted in trying to read his book, but at last gave up.

"Enough, Madam I beg you! For God's sake!" He stood and tossed his book onto the low table in frustration, withdrew a handkerchief and vigorously polished his spectacles. "Let us hear no more of Mr Parrish's partners! Would he had sprained his ankle in the first dance! He blustered," polishing.

"And his sisters!" She persisted ignoring him. "Oh, such charming women! So elegant and obliging! I wish you had seen them. The _lace_ on Mrs Blake's gown... " She gestured.

"No lace Mrs Stilinki!" Mr Stilinki quickly replaced his spectacles on his face, "do you hear me madam? _NO LACE!_

She'd have them destitute in a season!

 

At Lake House the party rested before retiring for the night, gathered in the large drawing room. Kate picked up the dainty teacup and sat on the chaise with her sister. Derek leaned on the mantle, Jordan helped himself to tea and Ennis Blake slept in one of the chairs.

"So Mr Hale, none of the Hertforshire ladies tempt you?" Kate sipped her tea.

"They do not ma'm." He answered brusquely.

"Not even the famous Stilinki sisters?" Jennifer Blake added.

"Well, I never met with prettier girls or more pleasant people in my life." Jordan poured his tea.

Derek looked up sharply."Parrish you astonish me!" He admonished. "I saw little beauty and no breeding at all." Jennifer and Kate glanced at each other over the rim of their cups. "I grant you that the eldest Stilinki girl is a tolerable beauty."

"A fine concession." Parrish sat in a high backed chair with his with his tea. "I will not have it....Come man, admit it she's an absolute angel."

Derek peered into the flames of the fire. "She smiles too much."He said soberly.

"Oh now, Lydia Stilinki is a sweet girl." Kate condescended. "But that _dreadful_ mother!" She added with a arch of her elegant eyebrow.

The women looked at one another and even Jordan was at a loss to take issue with the remark.

"I heard the other girls are also considered beauties." Kate smiled. "What think you to that Derek?"

He stirred the fire with a poker. "I would as soon term the mother, a great wit."

"Oh my word," the women giggled, " that really is too unkind Sir."

Jordan rolled his eyes and stood and joined the brunette at the mantle.

"Derek, I shall never understand how you manage to go through this world determined to be displeased with everything and everyone in it."

"And I shall never understand why you are always in such a rush to approve of everyone and everything that you meet." Derek retaliated with a slight smile at the corners of his mouth.

"Well you will not make me feel ill about Miss Stilinki." Jordan stated firmly.

"Nor I," Kate agreed.

"Or me," Jennifer agreed with her sister.

"I should be quite happy to know her better, despite the mother." Kate nodded. "See Mr Hale _we_ are not afraid of you."

Derek turned to her and inclined his head. "I would not have it otherwise."


	2. Chapter 2

It was a pleasant morning, dull but not too cold to be out-of-doors without the benefit of a coat. Lydia moved gracefully around the small herb garden gathering herbs to be hung up in the kitchen and dried. Also lavender to be dried for sachets, make lavender water and oil of spike. Upon this occasion Stiles followed her carrying the small, square, wicker basket in which to deposit the collected herbs, over his arm.

"I wonder why you don't confess all to father and have done. I doubt it would be half the surprise to him that you suppose, for father is a good deal more astute and observant than we are apt to give him credit for." She bent and gathered Thyme.

"I cannot," Stiles protested, "it would be a scandal and I should not blame him at all for casting me out."

She straightened. "Stiles! Anyone would suppose father an ogre to hear you and he is not." She chided. "You are his son, he loves you as do we all and he most certainly would not send you from the house because of it.... I am certain." She added as an afterthought.

"The Bible tells us it is a sin and unnatural," he sighed deeply,"I must simply try to overcome it with prayer and forbearance."

"Stiles, you have been praying since you were fourteen and have shown nothing but forbearance." She looked at him sympathetically. "It is making you desperately unhappy and it pains me to see it." She rested her hand on his forearm.

"Only you do, which is the important thing." He smiled weakly.

She turned and walked to the parsley. She bobbed down. "Every ball and party is torture for you and what will you do should the happy circumstance arrive that all your sister's are married and Scott, with whom will you be safely occupied?"

"Lorilee." Stiles answered with a smile.

Lydia deposited parsley into the basket. "Be serious Stiles." She fixed him with a firm gaze. "Sooner or later you will run out of understanding female partners."

"May I not dance with you when you are married? I am sure Mr Parrish will not mind." His eyes twinkled with mischief.

Lydia blushed and ducked her head. "You are speaking out-of-turn Stiles."

"No I am not." Stiles protested with a smile. "It was obvious to everyone how much he liked and admired you...... Do you like him?"

"I do," she answered frankly with a nod, " he is everything that a young gentleman should be. "Tall..."

"Handsome." Stiles prompted.

"He does have such blue eyes," Lydia agreed. "Good natured."

"Dark haired." Stiles added.

"His hair is a pleasing shade of brown," Lydia agreed. "Charming."

"Slender." Stiles laughed.

"Stiles stop!" Lydia blushed. "He is an attractive man I'll grant you, but he is also quick witted, kind, thoughtful, intelligent and not at all given to arrogance or pretentiousness."

"And let us not forget _wealthy_." Stiles chuckled. "He is so unlike his sisters." Stiles added as they followed the stone path toward the lavender.

"You did not care for Miss Parrish and Mrs Blake?" Lydia frowned.

"Not at all!" Stiles huffed. "Their manners are quite at odds with their brother. Miss Kate is far more like Mr Hale, they would be a good match I dare say."

Lydia shook her head. "I must disagree, on first meeting perhaps they appear a little arrogant and disdainful, but on closer acquaintance I found them to be charming and obliging."

"And you are too sweet natured to think ill of any one.." Stiles nodded and held out the basket to take some lavender. "I dare say Mr Parrish is just unfortunate in his sisters and not to be blamed. But I have to wonder at his choice of Mr Hale as a friend, given his own agreeable disposition."

"They have been friends many years I think," she looked thoughtful, "Mr Parrish seems to set great store by his opinions."

Stiles gave a noncommittal grunt.

"Perhaps Mr Hale will also improve on greater acquaintance." Lydia said hopefully.

"What!?" Stiles laughed. "You mean he might actually give thought to _'ladies slighted by other gentlemen'?"_ He imitated Hale's voice. "Never!" He laughed and imitated Hale again. _'You know I do not care to dance and in any case in an assembly such as this it would be insufferable.'"_

Lydia laughed. " _'She is tolerably handsome I grant you. But nowhere near handsome enough to begin to tempt me.' "_

They laughed and Lydia put more lavender into the basket. "That was very wrong and ungentlemanly and I wonder a great deal at it." Lydia confessed. "Perhaps he was out-of-humour when he made the remarks?"

Stiles sniffed."I think Mr Hale permanently out-of-humour. I wonder he goes into society at all if he finds it so disagreeable."

"Perhaps like you, he feels obliged by duty to do so?" Lydia glanced at her brother.

Stiles gave her a searching look.

"Look!" She pointed to the drive. "It is Scott come to call."

Stiles followed her finger to a figure standing by the gate passing the time of day with George the elderly gardener. He recognised at once his figure and blue coat. He handed the basket to Lydia.

"Scott,Scott!" He waved and ran toward him, Lydia smiled and followed in his wake.

"Stiles! Lydia!" Scott waved. He smiled as he hugged Stiles and then Lydia and walked with them toward the house.

"Father is to throw a party at The Lodge and you are all invited. Mr Parrish and his sisters will be there, Colonel and Mrs Harris and the officers billeted in Mereton."

"Oh Lord help us!" Stiles laughed. "All those red uniforms, Allison and Erica will be in their element. No unmarried officer will be safe from them."

 

People talked and circulated around the small ballroom at The Lodge. The red coats of the Infantry Officers were to be seen everywhere among the tailcoats and beautiful dresses of the other guests. Stiles stood patiently with his mother whilst she held court with Lady McCall and went on at length about the wonders of Mr Parrish and how enamoured he was of Lydia. His _five thousand a year_ featured prominently.

The gentleman in question had already gathered up Lydia and escorted her to converse quietly with his sisters.

Hale was standing alone and aloof by the wall. It was noticeable that his icy gaze warmed considerably each time he glimpsed Stiles. He shifted position to observe him better and as unobtrusively as possible, he quietly damned manners and etiquette that made his approaching the boy directly seemingly _indelicate_ and could compromise his good reputation.

Erica and Allison had already secured the attentions of two of the handsome, young officers and giggled and conversed with them loudly.

Stiles was just wondering if it was polite of him to excuse himself and go and talk to Scott, when they were joined by Colonel Adrian and Mrs Tracy Harris . The Colonel was in his forties and had the military bearing and sideburns of a man who had spent his life in the Army. His wife at eighteen was full twenty plus years his junior and a pretty, frivolous thing draped on his arm.

"Colonel Harris, how are you finding Mereton?" Lady McCall enquired.

"Capital Ma'am, capital." He replied pleasantly.

"I am sure you will receive the warmest of welcomes." Mrs Stilinski assured him.

Quite so Ma'am, though it has to be said we are not always made to feel so welcome as here at The Lodge."

"I cannot think why?" She replied.

The Colonel smiled but did not elaborate.

"My son here," she gestured to Stiles, "Stiles, is contemplating a commission." She puffed out her chest. 

Stiles choked and then coughed to hide his embarrassment.

"Is that right young man?" The Colonel smiled at him. "I can recommend the life."

Stiles cleared his throat. "It was but a passing notion and one to which my father is much opposed."

"Is he now?!" Mrs Stilinski scowled. " 'Tis the first I've heard of it." She huffed. "And you would look _so_ handsome in a red coat." She lamented. "And all the ladies love an officer, eh, Colonel?" She winked at him.

Stiles and the Colonel gave a thin smiles.

"So Colonel, are you here to subdue the rowdy populace or protect us from the French?" Stiles quickly asked.

"Neither sir. We Winter in Mereton. My men are much in need of training and my officers much in need of agreeable society."

There was a peal of feminine laughter.

"It would appear my dear, that Aiden and Ethan Steiner have already found their own agreeable company." Mrs Harris remarked with a smile.

Stiles turned. As he thought Erica and Allison laughed, giggled and draped themselves over the arms of two officers, identical twins.

"Perhaps Colonel, when you are settled you would give consideration to hosting a ball?" Mrs Stilinski encouraged.

"Why that is a capital idea Ma'am. Do you think a ball would be well received?"

"Ball? Who is giving a ball?" Erica pushed in. "I'd love a ball!" She bounced alarmingly. "So would you, would you not Ethan?"

The officer she clung to inclined his head. "Yes indeed, splendid idea."

"Me too." The other officer agreed, Allison clinging to his arm.

"There I knew you would...... Dear Ethan......" Erica patted his arm. "We could dance with all the officers." Erica giggled. "We could dance now if they would play something other than that dirge!" 

She gave her sister a cross look and went to the piano.

"For God's sake Meredith play something we can dance to!" Erica demanded.

"There are two more movements!" Meredith complained.

"Do listen to her Miss Walker! Play a lively jig!" Mrs Stilinski spluttered in support of her youngest daughter.

Meredith pouted. "Very well, though it will give me little enjoyment!"

Erica rolled her eyes and huffed, hurrying back to Ethan.

Meredith did as she was bidden and played a lively piece and Erica and Allison took to the dance area with a number of other ladies and officers and the dancing began.

 

Sir Rafe circulated and caught the attention of Miss Parrish and Mrs Blake.

"Are you enjoying the party ladies? As you see," he gestured, "we are free and easy here, without ceremony."

"We _had_ noticed." Kate answered and sipped her wine.

"Do you go often to St James's When you are in Town?" Sir Rafe queried.

"No Sir, we go but seldom." Kate answered tightly.

"Oh, in that case I should be honoured to present you there." Sir Rafe beamed.

Mrs Blake's eyes widened and she gasped.

Miss Parrish never broke her stride. "You are too kind Sir." She dipped shallowly and turned away, Mrs Blake following her.

She headed for a chaise and sat down. "The insufferable conceit of the wretched man!" She hissed. "To think that _we_ needed _his_ help in London society."

"Now Kate," Mrs Blake soothed, "I am sure he meant no offence. He seems an agreeable sort of man."

"Pftt! I expect he kept an _agreeable_ sort of _shop_ before he was elevated to the peerage." They giggled. She spied Hale. "Poor Derek what intolerable agonies he must be enduring in such company. See where he gazes into space a look of intense suffering on his countenance." She said sympathetically. "It is too horrid of Jordan to make him endure such company all for the sake of the Stilinski girl."

Hale was in fact quite happily engaged gazing hungrily at Stiles.

Stiles raised his head and whisky eyes met pale green, a ghost of a smile crossed Derek's face and was gone. He held Stiles's gaze for a moment more and then Stiles broke the contact wondering what he'd done to merit such close scrutiny.

Lord Rafe circulated taking his duties as host very seriously. He ensured that each guest was safely occupied either dancing or engaged in conversation. When he spied Hale standing alone, he was horrified, his duties as a host forbade him enduring it and he rushed to his side.....

"Now Sir, " he stood beside him, "a most agreeable diversion for young people is it not?"

Hale glanced at him curiously."Your pardon Sir?"

"Dancing! Mr Hale the cornerstone of civilized society." Sir Rafe motioned to the twirling dancers.

"And every uncivilized one." Hale answered casually.

"Eh?" Sir Rafe frowned.

"Every jungle savage can dance." Hale commented dryly.

"Oh," Sir Rafe nodded and looked confused.

It was at this point Stiles chose to walk by them on his way to talk with Scott. Sir Rafe seized upon the moment and grasped his arm and pulled him to a halt and presented him in front of Hale. Stiles started and blinked.

"Well now, have you met this fine young man Mr Hale?" Sir Rafe asked.

Hale's face softened. "Indeed I have not Sir." His voice like a velvet glove, his eyes skimming over Stiles critically followed by a warm smile of approval.

"Capital!" Mr Hale allow me to introduce a very worthy young man of my acquaintance. Master Stiles Stilinski." He beamed as Hale's eyes widened.

_Stilinski?_

_Damn!_

He inclined his head.

"Stiles, this worthy gentleman is Mr Derek Hale." Sir Rafe beamed from one to the other.

Stiles nodded briefly. Silence descended in which Stiles earnestly wished the ground would open and swallow him up.

Sir Rafe made a _'say something somebody,'_ motion with his hand.

Silence.

"Stiles is a most worthy conversationalist. A widely read, intelligent young man who converses interestingly on a wide variety of topics." Sir Rafe looked between them wondering why they weren't conversing.

"Stilinski?" Hale repeated warily. "Then Miss Lydia would be.............?"

"My sister." Stiles folded his arms over his chest and looked at Hale expectantly.

"And the other Stilinski's are your......?"

"Mother, brother and sisters." Stiles answered tightly.

Damn. It was too much to hope he was adopted.

"Ah," Hale tipped his head. He knew there was little way Stiles had _not_ heard his remarks at the Assembly Rooms.

Sir Rafe looked hopeful. "I'm sure you will have a lively and interesting conversation."

"You are too kind Sir Rafe, I doubt that there is anything I could say in which Mr Hale would have slightest interest." Stiles said with a touch of bitterness.

Sir Rafe frowned.

Hale arched an elegant eyebrow. "You underestimate yourself Master Stiles, I have many varied interests. I am sure you are knowledgeable about at least one."

"You are all politeness Sir, but I would not bore a gentleman such as yourself with my parochial chatter." There was a flash of defiance in the depths of his whisky eyes.

Hale's voice became flinty, but his eyes remained soft. "And I maintain you are in error Master Stiles, I would very much like to converse with you."

Sir Rafe continued to smile, afraid to stop.

"I must ask your pardon Sir, I am not at this moment disposed to conversation. I beg you, excuse me." Stiles nodded and turned and continued to Scott.

Hale nodded and swore under his breath.

Sir Rafe blinked. "Well I never, extraordinary behaviour and him normally such an obliging young man."

"It is of no consequence Sir Rafe, pray concern yourself with your other guests." Hale casually passed off the incident. _'Damn the wretched boy!'_

"Yes, quite." Sir Rafe wandered off, relieved to be released.

Hale gazed after Stiles, he should have been furious but he wasn't. The boy stirred his blood, he had stood up to him, hadn't been intimidated by either his demeanor, social position or wealth. Close to he was amazing, those eyes! He was a wild young colt he had no wish to break, just tame and put a halter on... He gave a secret smile. "Impertinent young whipper snapper." He muttered under his breath.

He didn't even know he'd spoken aloud until Jordan spoke.........

"Who is an 'impertinent young whipper snapper' ?" Jordan frowned.

Hale glanced at him. "Master Stiles Stilinski."

"Stiles?" Jordan blinked and narrowed his eyes. "Hale, what did you do to him?"

"Do to him?" Hale huffed."I did not do a damn thing, Parrish." He protested. "He was presented to me as someone with whom to converse and he damn well slighted me and was _not disposed_ to converse."

Jordan's brow furrowed. "Stiles? Stiles Stilinski?" He looked astounded. "When Lydia introduced him to me I thought him a most amiable young man. Good natured and friendly, quiet in temperament like Lydia."

"You realize there may be insanity inherent in the family?" Derek huffed.

Jordan snorted. "You threatened to shoot the last man called you taciturn!"

Hale glared at him.

"Don't glare at me Hale, it does not work. I know you too well." Jordan chuckled.

It was Hale's turn to snort.

 

Stiles stood with Scott and they talked together, dancers swirling and music playing in the background. Scott leaned toward him.

"I see Mr Parrish continues in his attentions to Lydia. She appears quite taken with him....."He commented with a smile.

"I am very happy for her." Stiles nodded. "I think with very little encouragement she is set to be in love with him and he is a very worthy gentleman."

Scott's eyebrows arched. "And Mr Parrish? Is he so inclined do you suppose?"

"It is certainly clear he likes her a great deal." Stiles nodded.

Scott studied them. "She needs to leave him in no doubt of her heart if she is to secure him."

"Secure him?" Stiles laughed. "Really Scott!"

"Why yes. She needs to exaggerate her feelings, show _more_ affection than she even feels. Secure him as quickly as she can."

"Secure him, before she is even sure of his character? Or feelings? Or even her own heart?" Stiles frowned.

"But Of course. Happiness in marriage is a complete matter of chance. There will always be vexation and grief and it is better to know in advance as little of one's partner's defects as possible." He nodded.

"Scott, you know your advice is not sound. I cannot believe you would ever act so yourself." Stiles chided gently with a smile.

"Well, it seems Lydia will not. Her shyness and reserved nature work against her I fear, and therefore we must hope Mr Parrish will. " He looked around. "I would dare to say he gets little encouragement from his sisters." 

"Or his friend, Mr Hale." Stiles added glancing to where Hale watched him with an intense, heated gaze.

Scott looked between Hale and Stiles and tipped his head to one side. "Mr Hale looks at _you_ a great deal, Stiles."

"I have no notion why," he shook his head, "unless he means to terrorize me with his contempt... He should not come into society if he dislikes it so, he just makes people uneasy."

"I would venture he makes _you_ uneasy at least...You are looking quite flushed...." Scott commented with a knowing smile.

 

Hale rolled Stiles's name around in his head as he gazed at him. After a few attempts he decided he liked the strange name, it rather suited the dark, lovely boy. He was so engrossed he failed to hear Kate come up behind him.

"Poor Derek," she commiserated, "I wager I can guess what you are thinking."

"I sincerely hope not Ma'am." Hale gave a ghost of a smile.

"You are thinking how intolerable it would be to spend many evenings in such _tedious, dull_ company." There was a note of contempt is her voice.

"No indeed," Hale contradicted her, "my mind was much more agreeably engaged............ I have been meditating on the very great pleasure might be bestowed by a pair of fine eyes."

Kate smiled, her own eyes being considered _fine_. "And may I dare ask Sir, whose are the eyes that inspired such reflections?"

"Master Stiles Stilinski."

Kate blinked and followed Hale's gaze to Stiles. She straightened and recoiled a little, stepping away. "Why Sir, I am all astonishment..."

 

 

Breakfast at Beacon could be most likened to the _feeding of the five thousand_ The girls, Isaac and Stiles were all possessed of good appetites and Erica little manners. She stretched across the table and grasped whatever took her fancy and never passed on the serving dishes. Mr Stilinski was also in command of a healthy appetite, though Mrs Stilinski complained bitterly of having the appetite of a sparrow. Nevertheless she managed to eat more than any of them.

So it was they were gathered around the dining table enjoying a hearty breakfast. Mr Stilinski at its head and Mrs Stilinski at its foot, Erica, Lydia and Isaac on one side, Allison and Stiles on the other. Hill delivered a letter into Lydia's hand.

"If you please Miss this is just come for you." She pressed the folded piece of expensive paper into her hand. Lydia took it and noted the seal upon the back.

"It comes from Lake House." She glanced at Stiles.

"Lake House!" Mrs Stilinski dropped her fork. "Hurry! Open it girl!" She urged excitedly.

Carefully Lydia broke the seal and unfolded the paper. Her face fell a little.

"It is from Miss Parrish and her sister."

"Oh, well I dare say it is all good and you must make the best you can of it." Mrs Stilinski nodded and her lace cap wobbled on her head.

"It begins, 'My dear friend.....' " Lydia read.

"Oh well now............ _Friend_ , what think you to that Mr Stilinski?" Mrs Stilinski beamed in a self-satisfied manner.

Mr Stilinski raised his head looking confused.

Mrs Stilinski vaulted to her feet and rushed around the table and without a by or leave snatched the letter from Lydia's hand. Lydia looked dismayed and Stiles rolled his eyes as she took it to her seat, sat down and read.....

" 'My dear friend, blah, de blah blah, and so forth. Ah, here we are." She looked up excitedly. 'Dine with myself and Jennifer today as the gentlemen are to dine with the officers.' Well, "she sighed, "that is a great pity. But you must go Lydia and make the most of it you can!"

Lydia smiled. "May I take the carriage father?"

Mr Stilinski dabbed his mouth with the corner of the table cloth (for he was not wearing his spectacles, not that they would have made much odds), and opened his mouth to speak....

"The carriage? No you may not!" Mrs Stilinski blustered. "You will ride there on Nellie for it looks a deal as though it might rain and then you will be forced to spend the night."

"Mamma!" Both Lydia and Stiles exclaimed together and gaped at their Mother.

"Why do you look at me like that?" Mrs Stilinski queried. Would you go all the way to Lake House and _not_ see Mr Parrish? No, Nellie will suffice." She gave a self satisfied smile.

Lydia looked appealingly at her father.

Mr Stilinski shrugged and turned and looked out of the window at the gloomy sky. "Far be it from me to contradict your mother..."

 

The rain held off until the late afternoon. Not ten minutes after Lydia and the stalwart Nellie had departed for Lake House, the heavens opened. Not only did it rain, it _stormed_. Thunder rolled and jagged zips of lightning lit up the sky. Stiles watched anxiously from the parlour window as rain lashed and plinked against the glass. He gave dark looks to his mother who was happily embroidering by the fire.

"There Stiles, what did I say? Now she will _have_ to stay the night at Lake House." Mrs Stilinski smiled to herself.

Stiles glared.

Lydia and Nellie plodded through the storm getting progressively colder, wetter and more miserable.

 

When she arrived at Lake House the sisters provided Lydia with a thick shawl to wear about her shoulders. As the gentlemen were not at home the meal was served in the cosy atmosphere of the smallest dining room. There was a table which could reasonably seat six and a lace tablecloth, silverware, fine bone china and glinting crystal. A fire burned in the hearth and Jennifer questioned Lydia quite closely as she ate.

"So your mother's sister is called Mrs Martin?" She nodded dabbing her mouth with her napkin.

Lydia chased her food with her fork, her complexion pale and her head thumping. 

"Yes," Lydia nodded.

"And their estate is where, exactly?" Kate questioned leaning forward and raising her glass to her lips.

"My uncle is an Attorney in Mereton." Lydia answered, the room spinning around her.

"Oh," Kate gave a tight smile and glanced at her sister.

"And your mother's brother?" Jennifer queried closely.

"He lives in London," Lydia began to feel feverish, her throat burned and it was painful to breathe. "In Gracechurch street."

"And in which _part_ of London _is_ Gracechurch Street?" Kate questioned curiously, her voice gently patronizing.

"I..........oh forgive me..." Lydia's head fell forward and he caught it in her hands.

Jennifer rolled her eyes in annoyance. 

"Fossett, fetch help." Kate addressed the servant. "Miss Stilinski seems to have been taken quite unwell......."

 

A note came from Lake House to Beacon later in the evening. It said simply that Lydia had been taken unwell and would be remaining at Lake House until she was well enough to travel home.

Mrs Stilinski was ecstatic.

 

Lydia's chair sat forlorn and empty at breakfast the next day and Stiles had quite lost his appetite. His sister's absence seemed to have no consequence at all to this other sisters or brother, nor indeed his mother and they all ate heartily. His father however was another matter.

Mr Stilinski polished his spectacles with the corner of the table cloth.

"Well Mrs Stilinski, if dear Lydia should die if this fever, we shall know that it was in the ardent pursuit of Mr Parrish and at _your_ behest, my dear." he pushed on his spectacles.

Mrs Stilinski raised her head. "What nonsense you do talk Mr Stilinski!" She answered crossly. "No-one dies from trifling little colds!" She stuffed boiled ham into her mouth.

"I think I should go to Lake House and call on Lydia and see how she fairs." Stiles said quickly.

"Go to Lake House?" His Mother spluttered. "Great heavens why? She will be well taken care of and you know there is nothing for you at Lake House. You would be better going to Mereton with your sisters and talking to Colonel Harris about your commission!""

Stiles ignored his mother. "I think that I must." He looked at his father. "Lydia will be pleased to see me."

Mr Stilinski nodded. "Quite so, since it does not appear your mother, sisters or brother are inclined to go. I expect you'd like me to send for the carriage?"

Stiles shook his head. "It is but three miles, I'll walk," he looked at his mother, "I'll be back before dinner."

"Walk! Indeed you shall not! Three miles across the fields, you will arrive covered in mud and not fit to be seen," his mother protested, "they will think we're savages!"

"I shall arrive fit to see Lydia and that is all I care about." Stiles retaliated. 

His mother huffed.

"I am quite set upon it." Stiles warned.

"We will walk with you brother, as far a Mereton." Allison added.

Erica giggled. "It is yet still early and if we call on the twins and they may not yet be dressed!" She giggled and bounced in her seat. Allison imitated her...... 

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm." They said together.

Mr Stilinski looked at them over the top of his spectacles.

"Our life holds few distinctions Mrs Stilinski, but I think we may safely say that we are parents to two of the silliest girls in the country!"

 

Stiles walked with his sisters as far as the small market town of Mereton with its half cobbled streets and bow fronted shops and stone cottages. There he left them and started across the fields to Lake House. As he walked his boots squelched through the mud and dirtied the bottom of his pantalons, but there was no great damage done until he came to the stile.

The stile provided access over the fence that separated Lake House's actual gardens and grounds from the general estate. Stiles hopped nimbly over and landed on both feet in a muddy quagmire. The mud oozed silkily over his boots and several inches up his fawn pants. He looked down and sighed, shook the excess mud off each boot and deciding he could make nothing better of it, continued.

Hale walked alone and in contemplative mood in Lake House's grounds. He wore his long, grey coat and carried a tall, dark hat; which he was loathe to wear. His mind drifted unbidden and disturbingly to the brother of the young woman at present occupying one of Lake House's many bedrooms. To shaggy, dark hair and big, whisky eyes, the fine shape of thigh and ......

Stiles came in sight of the house and rounded the edge of a large patch of shrubbery and almost walked directly into Mr Hale. Hale started in surprise as object of his musings materialized before him and betrayed his pleasure in a slight smile.

"Master Stilinski!" Hale gave him a curt nod.

Stiles recoiled slightly and then recovered and remembered his manners. "Mr Hale." Stiles bowed shallowly. "I have come to enquire after my sister's health.

Hale's brows lifted in question. "On foot?"

Stiles took a deep breath sensing the gentleman's disapproving incredulity. "I am as you see Sir," he held his arms wide, "I enjoy walking."

Hale suppressed the urge to smile taking in Stiles's bright eyes, tousled hair, pink cheeks and pants thick with mud. A wild young colt indeed...

Hale gazed at him in silence, his eyes boldly assessing him.

Stiles huffed at the scrutiny. "Would you be so kind as to direct me to her?" He asked somewhat petulantly.

 _You only had to ask..._ Hale half turned and motioned to Stiles to walk with him. "It will be my pleasure to escort you to her."

Stiles fell into step beside Hale and it was to be noted that Mr Hale walked closer than was strictly necessary and their shoulders brushed as they walked.

 

Lydia's room was large, elegant and well appointed. It possessed a fine four poster bed and a large hearth with a cheery blaze in it. Lydia was asleep. Stiles sat in a chair by her bed, biting his bottom lip with concern. Despite a ruddy flush to her cheeks the rest of her face was very pale, her breathing quick and laboured and there was a rattle to her chest. Her cheeks were hot to the touch and he poured cold water from the porcelain pitcher and applied a dampened cloth to her forehead.

 

The family were seated at lunch in one of the larger dining rooms. Mr Hale, lacking appetite, walked over to the window, cup and saucer in hand. He looked out of the window across the grounds and thought of the boy upstairs. Behind him Stiles was also being discussed.

"Well, we must allow him to be an _excellent_ sort of walker I suppose." Jennifer commented as she ate. "But really his appearance this morning, he looked almost _wild!_ "

Hale smiled.

"Did you see the state of his hair? All blown about and untidy." Kate laughed. "I could hardly keep my countenance." 

Hale sipped his tea.

"I mean," Kate continued, _what_ does he think he is doing scampering about the countryside just because his sister has a _cold_?" She cackled.

"His pantalons, six inches deep in mud!" Jennifer giggled."I hope you saw that brother?" She nodded at Jordan.

Jordan put down his knife and fork and picked up his glass of wine. "I confess," he took a sip, "I did not notice. "I thought he looked remarkably well for the exercise."

Hale turned from the window his expression sour.

"You observed it I am sure eh, Mr Hale." Kate smiled over the rim of her glass.

"Indeed I did." He answered brusquely.

"I am inclined to think you would not wish a member of _your_ family to make such an exhibition?" Kate smirked.

"Indeed I should not." Hale agreed. Were the boy _his_ he would ensure a carriage was at his disposal day and night.

"I believe it to show an abominable sort of...... conceited independence." Kate added thoughtfully.

The sisters laughed.

Jordan frowned. "I think it shows an affection and brotherly concern for his sister which is greatly pleasing."

Hale turned back to the window fighting the urge to defend the boy.

"I believe Mr Hale, that this little escapade has altered your admiration for his _fine eyes?_ Kate looked up at him with a sly, questioning smile.

Hale turned entirely to face her. "On the contrary his eyes were brightened and enlivened to a pleasing degree by the exercise."

Kate's smile froze on her face and she looked away glancing at her sister.

"But Lydia Stilinski is a sweet creature." Jennifer shook her head. "It is very sad she has such a family and such unfortunate connections." She stated quickly.

Kate lent forward and spoke in a stage whisper. "Her Uncle, she told us, is in _trade_ ," she hissed, "and lives in _Cheapside_!"

Horror!

Jordan sat back. "Well I do not care if she has relations enough to populate _all_ of Cheapside!" He gave an exasperated huff.

Hale carried his cup and saucer to the sideboard. "With such connections they can have _very_ little chance of any of them marrying well Jordan," there was a bitter tone to his voice, " _that_ is the material point." He continued to walk to his seat, his mouth a grim line.

The door opened and a liveried footman ushered Stiles into the dining room, he looked worried and tense.

Jordan jumped to his feet, scraping his chair back and Hale went to his side and noted Stiles's worried expression.

"Master Stiles, I trust you find Miss Lydia in better health?" Jordan asked solicitously with a nod of his head.. (The truth was Jordan didn't know. The only information he had was from his sisters and the servants. It was more than his life to go into the bedroom of a lady to whom he was not related or intimately acquainted) .

"I regret Mr Parrish that Lydia is a good deal worse than I anticipated." He wrung his hands. "She is running a fever, her breathing is quick, laboured and there is a sound to it."

Immediately Jordan looked to the servant. "Fosset, send at once for Doctor Deaton."

Fosset bowed and hurried out.

Jordan took Stiles's elbow."Be assured that Miss Lydia will receive the very best care and attention."

Stiles bobbed his head."You are most kind and generous Sir."

"And further I insist you remain with us here at Lake House and satisfy yourself of your sister's care." Jordan nodded and smiled.

Kate and Jennifer glanced at each other in horror.

Stiles was abashed by his kind offer. "Oh Sir," Stiles shook his head, "there is no need I am certain she will be well cared for and I would not impose upon your generosity."

"It is no imposition." Jordan smiled.

"And we _insist_ ," Hale added. Seizing the opportunity to become better acquainted with the boy.

Stiles looked between both gentlemen studying him.

"In that case," Hale caught his rise in colour, "I should indeed be most grateful for the opportunity to remain at Lake House."

"Splendid!" Jordan grinned and rubbed his hands together. "Make a list of what you and your dear sister require and I will have the servants run over to Beacon and collect it. They can also inform your family that you and your sister remain with us until she is quite recovered."

Hale and Jordan grinned. Kate and Jennifer scowled.

Ennis Blake raised his head from his plate. "Are we going to kill something today, or what?"

Everyone glared at him.

 

Stiles gazed from the window of Lydia's room and jumped each time the peace was shattered by the crack of guns. The gentlemen out shooting with their gamekeeper, beaters and dogs, not a pastime Stiles particularly cared for although he was a good shot. Lydia was resting a lot easier after Doctor Deaton's visit. An expectorant had been left for her chest and powders for her fever and he was to call again tomorrow. He had assured Stiles that she was strong and not in any danger.

As he glanced back at the bed, Lydia awoke and smiled at seeing him. She was grateful to see her dear brother's face and they conversed quietly before she once again succumbed to sleep.

By early evening she was much improved and able to both eat and drink a little. An invitation came for Stiles to join them downstairs in the drawing room for the evening, and he was in a mind to decline. The sisters made him uneasy and Mr Hale... Well, he wasn't quite sure _how_ Mr Hale made him feel. Confused certainly, for since his arrival he had seen little of the arrogance and haughty disdain apparent in the Assembly Rooms and the fluttering in his stomach every time he beheld him was, alarming. Mr Parrish was charming and gracious and he didn't mind his company at all and Mr Blake ignored him.

In the end it was Lydia herself made up his mind. She _insisted_ he go. She said that to decline would be both ungracious and ill mannered and that she would not suffer Stiles to be thought so on her account. She was feeling better and her spirits were good. Reluctantly he went to change in the room he had been given close to Lydia.

He returned to her room dressed smartly for the evening. He wore pale pantlons, shoes, white shirt with a high collar, simple, white cravat, plain, dark green waistcoat in a light wool and a matching green high waisted, four button jacket with short tails, which he wore open.

He delayed leaving Lydia as long as possible by fiddling with his cravat in the mirror.

"You look very smart and handsome as always." She laughed, propped up on pillows. "Be off with you."

Stiles turned and moved beside the bed, leaning on one of the posts.

"I shall not disgrace you then?" He smiled uncertainly.

"You could not." She took his hand.

"Oh Lydia," he sighed, "I'd much rather stay here with you." He pouted. "The superior sisters wish me gone, Mr Hale is just _strange_ and I like only _your_ Mr Parrish."

"Stiles, he is _not_ my Mr Parrish." She chided shyly.

"Oh, _I_ rather think he is," Stiles grinned, "or soon will be."

 

Stiles walked slowly down the long staircase and looked about him taking in the splendour of the house. Once in the hall way he studied the fine paintings and when the footman came on him unawares, he started nervously.

"The family are in the drawing room, Sir."

"Thank you." Stiles bobbed his head and the footman disappeared before he could ask which way. He looked at the many doors leading from the marbled hall and decided to just pick one at random. He heard tell tale noises from behind one door that was slightly ajar. Cautiously he pushed and it opened onto a short corridor with door to the right and one further along to the left. Noises came from the door to the right, which was also slightly ajar, so he went that way and pushed and stepped inside and stopped, frozen in the door way.

It was not the drawing room, it was the billiard room. Hale was there, stripped to the shirt sleeves, his gold waist coat tight enough to follow the contours of his muscled chest. He was caught mid shot and straightened at Stiles's sudden appearance, the cue in his hand. For a moment his eyes glinted with masculine interest then he bowed briskly.

Stiles's lips parted. "Oh," he breathed softly. An intense physical awareness overcame him and he felt his body grow warm.

"Good evening Master Stiles." Hale gripped the cue, a softness in his eyes and voice.

"I...Umm.... " Stiles gestured behind him. Why did he feel so nervous? "Good evening Mr Hale. I was looking for the drawing room." He lowered his eyes unable to meet Hale's bold gaze.

Hale nodded, Stiles turned to leave. "Do you play?" He asked suddenly wanting to delay him.

Stiles turned back momentary confusion in his eyes...

"Billiards," Hale prompted, "do you play billiards?"

"Oh," Stiles's face cleared, "no, we don't have a table," he turned.

"You will perhaps permit me to teach you," he stroked the cue with his fingers, "while you are here?" A coaxing timbre to his voice.

Stiles halted but did not turn back.

"Thank you Mr Hale but I doubt will be here that long." He answered with an unexpected tremor.

"Come now, I warrant you are a quick study." Said with a raised eyebrow.

Stiles hurried away without reply.

Damn!

Hale sunk the red with more viciousness than was necessary and tossed the cue onto the table.

 

In the elegant drawing room, the sisters, Mr Blake and Mr Parrish were seated at the round table playing cards. Stiles had taken a book from the shelf and was seated near the hearth, head down and engrossed in reading. It was an occupation in which he felt secure. It did not require his interacting with the sisters and indeed apart from being there he passed unnoticed which suited him fine. Hale entered having replaced and buttoned his black coat.

"Derek! There you are!" Kate greeted him."Come and play cards, Mr Blake takes all before him.

Ennis won another hand and the occupants of the table gave a united groan.

"Thank you Ma'am," Hale bowed, "but I must decline."

He crossed straight to Stiles and stood before him with his hands behind his back. "May I enquire after your sister's health Master Stiles?"

Stiles looked up. "I believe she improves after the visit by the doctor. Thank you Mr. Hale." His stomach fluttered as he noticed the hypnotic green of Hale's pale eyes and smiled a little.

"I am very glad to hear it." Hale inclined his head and walked to the small writing desk and took out a sheet of paper and sharpened a quill.

Stiles watched a moment, admiring his lithe movements and returned to reading his book.

"Will you join us at cards Master Stiles?" Jennifer asked pleasantly.

"I thank you, no." He gave an apologetic smile.

"Enjoy reading to cards eh? " Mr Blake sniffed. "Damn queer if you ask me."

Stiles ignored the remark.

"Master Stiles _despises_ cards, is a great reader and takes little pleasure in anything else." Kate laughed and was joined by her sister.

Stiles rested the book on his knees. He could not allow such a patronizing remark pass, especially as the woman did not know him. "Forgive me Ma'am you are in error." Kate blinked at him. "I do not despise cards, read a moderate amount for pleasure and advancement of the mind and take pleasure in a great many things." He shrugged and returned to reading, unaware of the smile on Hale's face.

Kate gave a look to Jennifer, regrouped and looked at Hale. "And you Sir, what is it you do so secretly there?"

Hale looked up from where he was writing. "No secret Ma'am, I am writing to my Sister."

"To Cora? Oh, how is she?" Kate grinned. "Has she grown any since the Spring? Has she yet reached my height?"

Stiles looked up as Hale leaned back in the chair..... So he had a Sister?

"She is perhaps Miss Lydia's height." Hale replied.

Stiles noticed a soft look on his face and in his eye when he spoke of his sister.

"Such a dear, sweet girl." Kate smiled, "so beautiful, such charm and manners, _so_ accomplished. She plays the piano forte exquisitely. Do your sister's play Master Stiles?"

"Alison is quite accomplished, Lydia plays well and Erica not at all." 

"Did I hear Lydia say correctly," Kate glanced at her sister, " _you_ play?"

"Aye Ma'am a little. Isaac is tone deaf and Erica was not disposed to learn so my mother thought rather than waste the lessons I may as well." He was perplexed by their strange looks and Hale's interested scrutiny.

"Bless me, a singular sort of accomplishment for a man... "Ennis stated.

"Not at all." Hale was quick to reply. "All the great composers are men. Bach, Handel, Vivaldi and so on."

"Quite so." Ennis grumbled. 

Hale turned back to his letter.

"But all ladies are _so_ accomplished.........." Jordan smiled, "they play, dance, paint, embroider, sing, speak French and German and I know not what else!"

"There are but half a dozen women of my acquaintance I would term truly accomplished." Hale muttered.

"Certainly," Kate agreed, "no woman can be called truly accomplished who does not have a certain grace and manner in her walking, her expression, the tone of her voice, her air and turn of her head." She gestured to emphasise her point.

"And to all this you must yet add something of more substance," Hale added, "the improvement of her mind by _reading."_

Stiles smiled. "I have to wonder at you knowing even six such women Mr Hale."

Hale put down his quill and faced him, an amused look upon his face.

"Really Master Stiles," Kate chided, "you are severe indeed upon the opposite sex."

"I am brother to Allison and Erica and love them dearly but speak as I find."

Hale laughed out loud and Stiles gave him what could only be interpreted as a shy glance and ducked his head back to reading.

Kate gave an annoyed glance between them. "I can only suppose your _lack_ of society makes you speak so Master Stiles. I assure you that in London society there are of _our_ acquaintance _many_ such accomplished ladies!" She forced a smile showing too many teeth.

 

The next day Stiles's mother and sisters arrived to visit Lydia. It was not only Stiles who was mortified................

"Lord help us!" Kate complained as she crossed the drawing room. "First the brother and now the wretched mother and sisters. Who is next? The father, other brother and all the relatives? Are we to suffer every Stilinski in the land?" 

Hale gave her a hard look from his chair across the room.

"I should not care if it were so!" Jordan chided.

"It is too much to bear!" Jennifer caught Kate's hand and drew her down onto the chaise.

The door opened and Mrs Stilinski entered like a galleon under full sail. Stiles at her side and the sisters behind. The feathers in her large hat wafted gently to and fro.

Jordan all but bounded to her and bowed.

"My dear Mrs Stilinski, you are very welcome." She gave a shallow bob. "I hope you do not find Miss Lydia worse than you expected?"

"Indeed Sir I do." She rung her hands for emphasis. "She is _very_ ill and suffers greatly."

Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Though you would be forgiven for not knowing how she suffers. She is possessed of the sweetest temperament and patience." Mrs Stilinski continued. "She is too ill to be moved and I regret Sir she and Stiles will have trespass on your kindness for a while longer."

The sisters glared at her but Hale gave a quiet smile.

Jordan's face was schooled into one of great concern. "But of course. They must stay until she is completely well."

Kate smiled. "Be assured ma'am she will receive every possible attention."

Hale crossed from his seat to the fireplace and leaned on the mantle, close to Jordan.

Mrs Stilinski looked around the room. "This is a _very grand house_ , I should wonder that you would ever want to leave it Mr Parrish." Uninvited she sat in a brocade and gilt chair. The girls took over a chaise, Stiles remained standing....

"I should indeed be pleased to live permanently in the country." Jordan nodded. "Eh Hale?"

" _You would?"_ Derek scowled. "You would not find the society too confined and unvarying for your tastes?"

"Confined ............. Unvarying?!" Mrs Stilinski spluttered. "Indeed it is _not_! The country is a great deal more pleasant than town, no matter what _you_ may say about it!"

Hale drew a deep breath and turned and walked to the window the muscle ticking in his cheek.

Stiles cringed and glanced at him. "Mamma you misunderstand Mr Hale's meaning." Stiles's eyebrows rose.

"Do I? Do I indeed! " She hissed. "He seems to think the countryside nothing at all."

"Mamma!" Stiles hissed in embarrassment.

"Confined and unvarying indeed!" Mrs Stilinski persisted. "I will have you aware Sir that we regularly dine with four and twenty or more families!" She blustered.

Kate and Jennifer sniggered loudly behind their hands.

Stiles cast them a black look and quietly wished the floor would open and swallow him up. "Mamma, have you seen Scott McCall since I've been away?" He valiantly tried to change the subject.

"Why yes, " she nodded, "he called yesterday with Sir Rafe. Now _that's_ my idea of a gentleman. So obliging and agreeable, good breeding always shows." She glared at Hale's back. "Those persons who think themselves very important and only open their mouths to complain, greatly mistake the matter!"

A tense silence fell. Erica leapt into the void. "Mr Parrish, did you not promise to hold a ball once you were settled? " She batted her eyelashes. "It would be a great scandal not to keep your word."

"I am perfectly willing to keep my promise." Jordan smiled.

Erica beamed.

"And when your sister is fully recovered, _you_ shall name the day."

Erica squealed and Kate choked.

"There now Erica! There's generosity for you!" Mrs Stilinski smile lit up her face. "That is what I call gentlemanly behaviour." She glared at Hale's back.

Stiles sighed.

 

After Stiles's family had departed and Lydia slept, Stiles went out for a walk to quiet his jangled nerves. 

Hale left to take a bath.....

He relaxed in the large, copper hip bath in a room set aside for bathing. A fire blazed in the hearth and a stand nearby was hung with towels, sunlight drifting through the window gave the room a warm, bright air. The servant had left to bring fresh buckets of hot, clean water for rinsing and would not be back for some time. He lounged on the high back rest, it was warmed by the water, copper held the heat so well. He shut his eyes and allowed his mind to drift. It drifted inevitably toward the boy, Stiles. He was a beauty and he had felt drawn to him almost from the moment he had seen him. Of course it was impossible, his station, his awful family, his lack of decent connections forbade any serious, lengthy attachment. He sighed, it was a great pity.

He gave himself a mental shake. How long was it since he had, had a lover, two, three years? Not since the last house party he had attended. He loathed them, two or three months incarcerated in a grand house with women looking for a husband; dangled enticingly before eligible men under the hawk eyes of wizened chaperones, like cattle at an auction. The men faring no better. It was his duty to attend, if left to himself he would not but he had Cora and her social standing and marital prospects to consider and so he _had_ to show himself. Thankfully his polite disregard of available women, his taciturn, aloof nature, sombre countenance and a general belief that he was _impossible_ to please, meant that despite his great eligibility he was left largely alone.

It was surprising how many men whose fancy lay as his did with their own sex or who liked both men and women as partners. It was at these gatherings he met his lovers. Young men with family names to uphold and honour to protect. They found excitement in _forbidden fruit_ didn't mind a little sneaking around and clandestine meetings provided it was all done with the greatest discretion and lack of serious intent. The affairs lasted as long as the house party and then they went their separate ways and if they met again, it was as mere casual acquaintences. 

Stiles was different, his station in life meant that he and his family would not weather rumour and scandal, they would be ruined. The boy would not be coaxed or prompted into risking his reputation and that of his family for excitement or a mere dalliance and he would not have it otherwise. 

_Sometimes Derek felt damned by his own deep sense of honour._

Stiles was a bright, lively and good natured. He was not easily intimidated by either wealth or social position, his respect and good opinion had to be _earned_ and was not casually bestowed. He displayed a healthy amusement in the sillier aspects of society and yet he was polite, well mannered and obviously had great affection and regard for his family, their good name and his. He would not engage in a casual affair and endanger them. Above all he displayed wit and intelligence, a combination Derek often found lacking. He suspected at once that the boy was more attracted to men than women but he was afraid of what he felt and prompted to follow the constraints of society and protect his and his family's reputation. It was in his nature that his body would not be freely given without his heart being won first and once won it would not be easily lost. If Stiles family and connections had been better, his station higher, he might have given serious thought to winning his heart. 

__

__

After all he was twenty eight and had contemplated taking a committed companion for some time. Cora, even if she married would always be willing to fill the female roll of hostess for him and he already employed a worthy housekeeper. The boy would be his first and _only_ choice in that position. 

Derek's hand glided over his muscled chest, fingers sliding through the fine mat of dark hair. Tendrils of steam curled up from the surface of the water and scent of lavender wafted gently about the room, trapped in the damp air. _The boy was so fetching_. He tweaked his mocha nipples between thumb and forefinger into hard points and his hand slid South, over his flat stomach and through the warm water and the silky, dark curls at his groin. Broad fingers curled around his long, thick, slippery cock, already hard with thoughts of the boy. Need rose and his heated flesh seemed to leap into his hand, his cock thickening and hardening at his touch, the big under vein throbbing against his palm as he took charge of himself. A deep ache suffused his body and he hissed his hand moving back and forth... He imagined leaning over the writhing boy as he fucked his sweet body hard and deep. He was always a generous if not a gentle lover, but he would be gentle with the boy, treat him as something precious. 

His hand was hardly a fitting substitute for the heat and tightness of that body, but it would have to suffice. 

His fingers tightened and his hand moved faster, drawing back the velvety foreskin to reveal the fat, bulbous crown underneath. He teased the bundle of nerves on the underside just below the fat head and lighting zipped through his body, bouncing from nerve to nerve and lighting him up like Summer storm. He threw back his head as his hips started to move, driving himself into his hand. 

Water slapped and sloshed over the side of the bath. 

His balls felt like ripe peaches ready to burst and his cock pulsed with need synchronized with his pounding heart. He spiraled higher and higher he pumped faster and faster, deep groans escaping his lips. 

He keened, he wanted, he yearned to make Stiles his. He liked him, he could not remember liking anyone so much before. He wanted him, not for just a couple of months, but to claim him for a lifetime. He soared higher, his muscles tightened, his toes curled and he balanced on the edge of the precipice, needing something to send him tumbling over... 

He dug the edge of his thumbnail into his slit. 

Pain ricocheted through his body and liquid fire snaked down his spine. He swallowed his guttural cry as he came, heat shooting from his cock and ribbons of opalescent cum drifting away on the water. He slumped back, his muscles relaxed, sated and loose limbed he settled into the water.. 

The servant arrived a little later and he roused himself and lent forward as copper buckets of clean, hot water were emptied over his head. He lent back with a sigh and thought about Stiles and his dreadful mother.... 

__Stiles explored Lake House's extensive grounds, following the miles of gravel paths. He went on a circular route and was headed back toward the house. He rounded the bend and stopped dead. His way was barred by an enormous white and black boarhound. They cautiously regarded each other. The hound made no sound nor showed any sign of aggression, in fact he slowly began to wag his great tail. Stiles smiled and boldly petted the dog's head as his tail thumped against his legs. He looked around and being unobserved he began to run, the great dog bounding with him.__

____

____

Hale rose gracefully from the bath, stepped out and the servant slipped on his thick, brown, dressing gown. He secured the gown and with a belt, crossed to the window and looked out. 

A slow smile overtook his features. 

He watched as Stiles pelted down the gravel path neck and neck with the great hound bounding at his side. They stopped almost underneath Hale's window and Stiles cast around and found a good, thick twig and grasping one end and the hound grasping the other they engaged in a game of tug-o-war. 

Derek watched the boy and dog and for the first time he allowed his mind to paint a picture of the boy romping in a like manner with his hounds on the manicured lawns of Nemeton. 

That evening Kate promenaded around the drawing room. Jordan sat on the chaise and gazed into the flames of the fire and thought about Lydia. Ennis slept in a chair, now and again snoring and snorting. On the other chaise Jennifer yawned. Hale sat in a chair and read, Stiles sat at the round table and did the same. 

Kate sighed heavily, leaning over Hale. He ignored her completely and turned the page. She walked on and stopped by Stiles. "Master Stiles give me your arm and promenade the room with me, it is _so_ refreshing." 

__Stiles raised his head, obviously (as Hale observed), confused._ _

"Promenade the room?" Stiles blinked. "Would you not prefer the garden?" 

"Great heavens no!" Kate spluttered. "It is much too cold." She motioned for him to stand. 

Stiles stood and Kate threaded her arm through his and they began a first circuit. On the second circuit she paused in front of Hale. 

_"Will you join us Mr Hale?" She asked._

He looked up. 

"That would defeat the purpose." 

_"Which is?"_ She pressed. 

"That your figure ma'am is best displayed when walking and that I can best admire it from my present position." He smiled. It was not _her_ figure he'd been admiring. 

"That is abominable Sir. A shocking lie! " She laughed. "As one of his sex you shall decide how to punish him Master Stiles. 

"Punish him?" Stiles frowned. 

Hale cocked his head and smiled a little, his eyes fixed on him. 

Stiles shrugged. "Laugh at him." 

"Laugh at Mr Hale?!" She dropped his arm. "Mr Hale is _not_ a man to laugh at. He is without fault." 

"Then he is most fortunate for I know few who would boast the same, including myself." Stiles nodded. 

"To be without fault is not possible for anyone," Hale drew a deep breath, "but I have given study to those faults which most exposes one to ridicule." 

"Such as vanity perhaps and pride?" It was a sharp jibe but one Stiles felt justified in making. 

"Vanity, is a weakness indeed," Hale affirmed, "but pride where there is a superiority of mind, pride will always be under good regulation." Kate looked between them. "I have faults enough Master Stiles, but I hope they're not of understanding." Hale gave Stiles a hard look to let him know he had his meaning. "As to my temper others will have to vouch for. It might be called resentful.," he paused, "my good opinion, once lost, is lost forever." 

"That is a fault indeed but I cannot laugh at it." Stiles said evenly. 

"I believe Master Stiles, that every disposition has a tendency to some particular evil." Derek replied smoothly. 

Yours seems to be a propensity to dislike everyone." Stiles replied quickly. 

"And yours is to wilfully misunderstand them." Hale retorted. 

The air snapped with tension. 

"Shall I play some music?" Kate tried to defuse the situation. 

Derek set his book aside. "I believe I will take a brief stroll in the garden." He stood. "Perhaps you will join me Master Stiles?" 

Kate looked between them."It is cold outside." She stated bluntly. 

"For ladies perhaps," Derek smiled at her, "for gentlemen it is I believe -refreshing." His intense gaze fell on Stiles. "Will you join me Master Stiles?" He repeated with a challenge and an invitation in his voice... 

For a moment Stiles was lost for words. At a loss to know why Mr Hale should seek his company. Then he glimpsed into his green eyes and saw a heat and hunger in their depths that made his stomach flutter and heart race. He nodded tentatively. "I believe Sir, I will. 

__His acceptance was out of his mouth before he knew it._ _


	3. Chapter 3

The night air was cool against Stiles cheek after the warmth of the drawing room. He preceded Derek through the square paned French Windows that led into the neat garden and Derek turned and secured the windows behind them and then hurried the few steps along the paved path to join Stiles.

Kate stared after them in silent amazement. "Jordan, perhaps you should go with them?" She suggested with a troubled frown.

Jordan concealed his quiet smile behind his hand. "I think not Ma'am I am sure they will enjoy the air just as well without my company."

"Come sit by me, Kate." Her sister encouraged.

 

Derek walked beside Stiles and measured his stride to fall in with his. It was a pleasant, cool night. A Barn Owl hooted in the distance and the moon cast a silver hue on the formally laid out garden. It was not cold but yet was not warm and they walked for several moments in an uneasy silence and then Stiles felt compelled to break it. "I have to wonder Sir at your solicitation of my company." His eyes betrayed his confusion.

Their step slowed, but kept on walking.

"Why," Derek's elegant eyebrow rose, "have I indicated I _dislike_ your company?" He answered with a question.

Stiles's brow furrowed. "I have to say that I do not believe you can find much pleasure in it. You have said on more than one occasion that country life, society and people are distasteful to you."

"I spoke in general terms..." He tilted his head to one side. " _I_ like your company." He let it lie a moment and then continued... "In any case you looked in need of rescue."

"Rescue?" Stiles stopped walking. "I do not understand Sir."

"From Miss Parrish," Derek elaborated, "I saw that her attentions made you ...uncomfortable."

Stiles cast a worried glance at the house and then looked at Derek."It was not my intention to cause offence."

"You did not." Derek assured him. "Your manners were charming." 

Stiles breathed in relief, more for Lydia's sake than his own, they walked on. "Promenading the room is not an activity with which I am familiar..." Stiles made a helpless motion. "I have to confess I see little purpose in it."

Derek nodded. "It is all the rage in London society for the reasons I gave."

Stiles gave him an questioning look and Derek continued...

"A lady's figure is displayed to best advantage when walking and most easily admired doing so." Derek reiterated patiently.

"Oh," Stiles looked momentarily confused and then his face cleared. _"Oh!"_

Derek gave a slight smile. "I am by inclination and practice an observant man," he explained, "and not being particularly sociable by disposition I find that when I go among society I am occupied in studying those around me. "

"I wonder if you find it so disagreeable you go out in society at all." Stiles said bluntly. Being the object of observation did not sit well with him.

"I suspect go into society for much the same reasons you do, namely that it is expected of me." Derek answered cryptically.

Derek very much wanted to know if Stiles's unease in society was caused by a natural shyness, youth, unfamiliarity or as with himself a preference for his own sex and there was a question vexed him. _What were Stiles feelings toward Scott and Lorilee McCall?_

"For instance," Derek continued, "I noticed at the Assembly Rooms that you danced only with your sisters and Miss McCall. May I be so bold as to ask...Are you perhaps an admirer of that young lady?" It was framed as a casual enquiry.

Stiles gave a brief laugh. "An admirer of Lorilee? Indeed no." Then he thought about his ungallant reply. "That is to say she is a most worthy young lady and the sister of my dear friend." He added quickly. "They have been life-long friends of my sisters, brother and I and I most think of Scott as another brother and Lorilee as another sister... We all played together as children and were schooled together." He grew thoughtful. "Scott is, I warrant my closest friend, besides Lydia."

Internally, Derek sighed in relief. "I see." He nodded, the sweet boy had supplied him with the answer he needed - That he thought of Scott and Lorilee McCall as another brother and sister and nothing more. "Then if I may continue..." Stiles nodded. "You danced only with your sisters and Miss McCall, conversed with your life-long friend.... I conclude that therefore you are either shy, which is not generally apparent in your manner or _ill at ease_ with ladies."

Stiles barked out a laugh. "Ill at ease? His eyebrows rose. "Mr Hale I have a mother and _three_ sisters. My best friend has a sister I think of as mine also. I can hardly be _ill at ease_ in female company!" He protested.

"I did not say ill at ease with your sisters or your dear friend's sister. Quite the opposite, " he gestured, "you display an appropriate affectionate familiarity with them. But with other ladies....." He let his remark lie.

Stiles huffed, who was Hale to talk? "You danced with no-one." Stiles retaliated bluntly.

"We are not at this moment discussing myself, but you....." Stiles was silenced. "This was despite a general shortage of men and several ladies attempting quite strenuously to attract your attention."

"Perhaps like yourself Sir, I cared for none of them." Stiles answered.

"It was not so much that I _cared for none of them,_ but the circumstances in which I found myself, forbade it. Circumstances which did not apply to yourself." 

"Sir?" Stiles's brow furrowed.

"It is a matter-of- fact that my station and that of my family, position in society, wealth and connections place constraints on whom I may most associate. To dance with a lady who was not at least very close to myself in rank would have been an embarrassment to myself, my family, friends and not least, the lady herself."

Stiles's eyebrows rose. He was not about to let him off that easily. 

"There were none there to see it but that assembly. Clearly Mr Parrish did not find it offensive, nor worthy of comment. " He shook his head slightly. " Indeed that gentleman danced most of the evening with my sister and as you call him _friend_ I must by your own reasoning suppose him close to you in rank, yet he _was_ disposed to dance and saw no embarrassment in it." Stiles allowed himself a self-satisfied smile.

_Touché._ "Indeed, well observed." There was a slight amusement in Derek's tone.

_Impudent pup! God he's wonderful..._

"Mr Parrish is a close friend, though in actual fact lower in rank, fortune and family connections than myself. My family includes the highest titled persons, his does not. I, myself have high connections which would be harmed and embarrassed by any impropriety on my behalf, he does not. I do not mention this as any pride in my rank, but to illustrate the material facts. He is freer to act as he pleases than I am. I am proud to call him my friend and he is a most worthy and honourable gentleman." He inclined his head slightly. "Further do you not suppose Sir Rafe, a most worthy gentleman but apt to speak in an unguarded manner, would have perhaps mentioned my standing up when next he was in Town?" It was a rhetorical question.

That was true enough, Sir Rafe's discretion could not be relied on. Stiles knew he had been out manoeuvred, he could not argue with material facts. They walked on following a circular route, which eventually headed back toward the house.

Abruptly Derek drew to a halt and Stiles stopped with him. "I do have an ulterior motive for seeking your company. I feel it falls upon me to offer you a sincere and deep apology."

Stiles's eyes widened. "Me?" There was surprise in his voice.

"Yes." Derek looked slightly uncomfortable, he was not well used to apologizing. "I regret to say you may have overheard ungentlemanly and ill conceived remarks that I made concerning one of your sisters while at the Assembly Rooms."

Stiles tensed.

"Ah," Derek nodded knowingly, "I see by your eyes that you did. I did not at that time know of your relationship to the lady in question and my remarks were made entirely for Mr Parrish's ears alone."

"I was not eavesdropping." Stiles said defensively.

"I am not suggesting for the world that you were, but that I spoke sufficiently loudly that, seated as you were it is most likely you overheard."

Stiles huffed, blowing out his cheeks.

"At any rate, please accept my apology." Derek nodded curtly.

"It is not to me you owe the apology Sir, it is rather to my sister Erica." Stiles pointed out.

"She did not hear me." Derek replied.

"She did not," Stiles agreed with a nod, "nevertheless the remarks were made about her." He persisted.

"And I repeat, she did not hear me and therefore has no knowledge of what was said, _you_ do." There was a slight edge to Derek's voice, the boy was enjoying his discomfort too much.

"And I maintain Sir, the remarks were made about her and whether she heard them or not it is to _her_ you owe an apology and not myself. You have yet to cause any offence to myself."

Derek's eyebrow rose and he shifted weight onto one foot more than the other.

"If I was to offer an apology to Miss Stilinski, she would not know its purpose." Derek reasoned with narrowed eyes.

"You could explain." Stiles stated smoothly.

"That would involve repeating the offence, which for the world I would not." Derek retorted.

"But then you could express your regret." Stiles smiled, enjoyment in bandying words with Derek evident.

"I do not regret the sentiments I expressed," shock flickered in the depths of Stiles's eyes, "merely that they were ungentlemanly, ill concieved and overheard."

"Am I to understand Sir, you stand by your remarks?" Stiles looked confused.

"I do," Derek studied him, "they were honestly and justifiably made with due regard for the material facts." Stiles frowned darkly. "The lady in question is far below my station, that cannot be denied." Derek bent a little toward Stiles and gestured with his hand to emphasise his point. "Her youth was against her and although quite pretty, she does not possess the dark looks and pale complexion which I find _most_ attractive." His gaze roved lazily over Stiles. "But it was perhaps the unrestraint evident in her behaviour which most denied the possibility of my dancing with her."

"She is only just fifteen!" Stiles exclaimed defensively.

"And I have it from Mr Parrish via Miss Lydia that you are not yet eighteen and I have noted that your manner is restrained, calm and gentlemanly."

"I am not a fifteen year old girl." Stiles answered boldly, but logically he had to concede Hale made valid points.

"No indeed you are not." Derek agreed, slowly dragging his eyes hungrily over the boy. "Nevertheless I allowed my ill humour to lead me to make remarks which I regret were overheard. This was not my intention and I therefore ask you to accept my apology if you will."

"And I repeat that it is not to myself you owe the apology," Stiles said stubbornly, "unless you mean to offend me at some future date and are apologizing ahead of time."

Derek didn't miss a beat and answered smoothly. "It is not my intent to offend you now, or in the future." Derek was growing exasperated and impatient. The boy was being deliberately awkward.

"Well that is good," Stiles nodded, "although you have not really apologized at all as you still adhere to the sentiment expressed in your remarks." He shook his head slightly.

Derek's eyes narrowed dangerously. "It is impossible for me to apologize for material facts, only in the manner in which I voiced them." He stepped nearer so that their chests almost brushed. "You cannot expect me to be happy that your family's rank is so far below my own, or in the free and easy manner in which they conduct themselves. But I do ask you to accept my apology for voicing my opinions imprudently and aloud."

Stormy green eyes met Stiles's. A stubborn streak flashed in their whisky depths. "No." Derek looked momentarily taken aback but recovered immediately. "I do not intend to offend you, but I cannot," Stiles added,"I truly believe it is to Erica you owe apology."

Derek's chest heaved. "You are a singularly stubborn sort of young man."

"I ask your pardon Sir, I do not mean to be so any more than you meant by your remarks to cause offence to my sister." There was a mild defiance in his eye and tone.

They stood face to face, chests almost brushing, puffed out breaths tickling each other's cheek.

Derek had the most insane impulse to kiss the boy. He was not by nature an impulsive man and it was a disquieting, new feeling.

There was a tingling in the pit of Stiles's stomach which he found disturbing..

Derek weighed up the situation.They were alone and unobserved. If he gave in to his impulse one of four things would happen. Stiles would be outraged and punch him.... he would accept the blow for it would be well deserved. If he was a virgin to male attention but welcomed it, likely he would flutter and flush, bluster and protest.... delightful. Or if he welcomed the attention, was more experienced but did not find him attractive, he would not return the kiss.... and he would have to work harder. Fourthly he was experienced, welcomed the attention and kissed him back.......unlikely.

Without a by or leave Derek leaned in and brushed his lips against Stiles's.

They became a tableau frozen in time. It was barely a kiss. A simple, brief brush of lips, more than chaste..... Stiles definitely did not make any move to participate in the activity. 

Derek tensed for a blow that never came. He drew back slowly, his lips tingling from touching Stiles's and his heart racing. 

The world held its breath, time stood still. Brown eyes opened wide and unblinking, if Stiles had been about to protest it was frozen on his lips. Stiles was numb, stunned, he was speechless. He was too startled by what had happened to offer any objection. 

What he wasn't was appalled or offended, later perhaps he would be?

Had it really happened or had he mistaken a movement by Mr Hale and imagined it? That gentleman couldn't possibly have... _kissed_ him?

Derek watched the chaos of confusion in Stiles expressive eyes. He almost felt like repeating the act just to break the inactivity. The boy neither kissed him back, nor fluttered and flustered. Was it then that he didn't object to male attention, that he merely found him unattractive? He would take steps to remedy that, if he could. "Master Stiles?" he asked tentatively, concern etched on his face..

The sound of the soft timbre broke the spell Stiles was under and he started and blinked. He looked around sharply, as if searching for the voice. 

"It's cold, I'm cold. Are you not cold Sir?" Stiles didn't wait for a reply. "I think that I must return indoors." He said turning. "Your pardon Sir." Was added as Stiles strode quickly away in the direction of the house.

Derek watched his disappearing back with disappointment. He was little more in command of the knowledge he sought but little advanced and he pushed a frustrated hand through his hair. 

He trailed slowly in Stiles's wake.

Derek walked at a pace designed to deliver him to the house some minutes after Stiles. He opened the French Windows and his eyes darted about the room. There was no sign of Stiles and he closed windows behind himself and stepped into the room. 

Kate looked up from the chaise a smirk on her face. "It would appear your little scamper in the garden and tete`-a-tete gave poor Master Stiles a headache. He has retired for the night."

Derek grunted his reply. Resumed his former position and continued to read his book.

 

" _Mister Hale_ did what?!" Lydia sat bolt upright in bed and her large eyes went very round.

Stiles rolled his eyes and huffed. Surely telling it once was enough? "He kissed me in the garden." He mumbled leaning against one of the posts of the bed.

"Oh Stiles," she smoothed her sheet to distract her from the _wounded_ look on Stiles's face, " _are_ you sure?"

"What do you mean am I sure?" Stiles's brow furrowed and his voice rose and octave.

"I meant only that it maybe you mistook the act, that really it was something else?" She made a placating gesture as she spoke, Clearly Stiles was _very_ disturbed.

"Lydia, if kissing involves the placing of lips upon another's, then _yes_ he kissed me!" There was an exasperated tone in his voice. He was beginning to wish he had never mentioned it. And yet it was too momentous a thing to keep to himself.

"I was neither dreaming, hallucinating or suffering from excess of wine." He added and thereby circumnavigated her possible next line of query.

Lydia looked deep in thought.

"Did you do anything which might have been erroneously taken as encouragement? A desire to be kissed?" She frowned as she asked the question doubting very much Stiles knew _how_ to encourage such an act.

Stiles was immediately on his dignity.

"I did not." He stated with conviction. "We were talking, disagreeing actually and he suddenly.... _kissed_ me."

"You had a _disagreement_ with Mr Hale?" She choked out.

This disaster compounded itself by the minute!

"Stiles! How _could_ you disagree with Mr Hale?" She accused.

"Quite easily." Stiles retorted. "I find him remarkably easy to disagree with."

"Stiles! Would you jeopardize my chances of happiness with Mr Parrish?" Lydia questioned urgently.

"Not for the world." Stiles answered in earnest. "But I did not disagree with Mr Parrish."

"Do you _not_ suppose Mr Hale will mention it to his friend? That he might then suppose that a disagreeable nature is inherent in our family?" She protested unhappily.

Stiles sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand. "You are possessed of the sweetest, most obliging nature of anyone I have ever met and if Mr Parrish does not realize that, then he is a fool. And I for one do not believe him a fool." He squeezed her hand. "I do not possess your sweet nature for my tongue is too quick and my thoughts too easily voiced, but that is my failing, not yours." He assured her quietly.

Lydia searched his face with her eyes. "Stiles, you are a good, kind man. Intelligent and easy going. It is true you are apt to speak too readily and your tongue sometimes has a sharp edge, but you are not malicious. Indeed I blame much on your maleness and father's encouragement rather than any true falling of character." She smiled sweetly."But we must get to the bottom of Mr Hale's extraordinary behaviour for I do not suppose him to generally go around kissing young men with whom he is barely acquainted."

Stiles's brow furrowed.

"Was the kiss disagreeable to you?" She asked quickly.

Stiles thought and answered slowly. "It was not _disagreeable_."

"Did you respond to it?" 

What manner of question was that? "Respond to it?" Stiles repeated with a frown.

Lydia sighed."Did you kiss him back?"

" 'Pon my soul, I did not!" Stiles spluttered.

"Did the gentleman kiss well?" There was a mischievous glint in her eye.

"How would I know?" Stiles blustered. "I have nothing with which to compare."

"Nonsense, was it like kissing one of us or mamma?"

"No, no," a brief shake of his head, "it was nothing like that."

"Did he hurt you?" She doubted it very much, Stiles was _disturbed_ not hurt.

"What!? No of course not." Stiles assured her.

"Were you afraid?" A genuine concern. Had Mr Hale _forced_ his attentions on Stiles then immediate censure was called for and the informing of Mr Parrish.

Here Stiles became thoughtful. He had he been afraid? There had been a strange tingling in the pit of his stomach. A deep ache had rolled through his body that he could only describe as a sense of _longing_ , though for what he did not know. But fear? Anticipation, excitement, confusion perhaps but not fear. 

"I was not afraid." He answered quietly.

Lydia noted the hesitation and the look on Stiles's face and in his eye. No, he had not been afraid.

"Very well." She squared her shoulders. "I anticipate we shall not remain here more than another day and therefore several courses of action are open to you." 

She glanced up to check she had Stiles's attention, she did. 

"Firstly you can seek a private audience with Mr Parrish, acquaint him of the facts and leave him to censure Mr Hale. Mr Hale is after all, his friend and guest."

Stiles shook his head. The less people who knew, the better. No.

"By the same token seek an audience with Mr Hale and ask his meaning...."

A more vehement shake of the head. God no!

"Since we are to remain only a short time, actively avoid him excepting such times as there is company present, or do nothing. Carry on as before and see what transpires. I doubt anything will." She shrugged. "It maybe Mr Hale acted on impulse and the impulse past it will not be repeated."

Stiles bobbed his head. "I think the latter is best. Do nothing. As you say it was probably a momentary impulse, meant to cause mischief and unsettle me and I would not give him leave to think he had done so. "

Stiles nodded his head firmly, a course of action decided upon.

 

Jordan Parrish leaned over the billiard table and drew a bead on the white cue ball with his cue.

"I kissed Stiles in the garden." Derek said quietly. 

Jordan made an odd sound in his throat, the cue shot forward, the white cue ball hit the red and it bounced across the table and was caught by Derek as it leapt the cushion and threatened to plunge to the floor.

Jordan straightened, a death grip upon his cue and blinked at his friend. "Oh God. Please tell me that was a deliberate ploy to make me miss the shot and you are not serious." His voice was a strangled octave higher than normal.

Calmly Derek drew a bead on the brown ball, sunk it and rose looking at his friend. "I am in earnest."

"Dear Lord! Derek!" Jordan gestured wildly with his cue. "Well that explains it." He stated.

"Explains what?" Derek leaned over the table and sunk a green.

"Why poor Stiles came in from the garden like he was pursued by the hounds of hell." Jordan huffed.

Derek missed a blue. "Did he now?" His lips twitched into a smile.

"Don't you dare smile!" Jordan threatened his friend half-heartedly. "What did he do, strike you?"

"He did not."

Jordan's eyes widened. "Did he return the kiss?"

Derek's face fell a little. "Unfortunately, no."

Jordan leaned on the table. "What were you thinking? You have already chided me for their low rank, poor connections and family and you make overtures to the brother?" He was rather cross."Not to mention the offence you caused to Stiles and dear Lydia."

"I had observed him and concluded that there was unlikely to be any offence, for the rest the material fact is he is the _brother_. I am not going to _marry_ him and so unite forever my family with his. As for Miss Stilinski, the matter does not touch her." Derek explained.

"It is unlike you Derek to act in such an impulsive and imprudent manner. You are the very soul of discretion in all things. What is it about Stiles prompted you to act so out of character?" Jordan queried with a frown.

"I am almost at a loss to explain it myself. " Derek leaned on his upright cue and his face grew thoughtful. "I find him physically attractive, but I find many young men so without the desire or impulse to act on it. He is quick witted, sharp tongued, _irritating,_ which I find surprisingly agreeable".

Jordan's frown deepened.

"He is unafraid of my position and rank and yet displays observance in his address and manner. He disagrees with me in a way I find refreshing. He has a pleasing restraint in his manner, tempered with a playfulness of spirit. He displays a pleasing affection for his family, which you have noted, though some hardly deserve it. He is in every way a wild young colt waiting to be tamed."

Jordan's face softened."And you think yourself the man to bridle him?"

"I wish it so, but...." Derek sighed deeply, "I fear not."

Jordan looked at him questioningly.

"It is impossible for the reasons you stated. Station, rank, family and connections. Were I to take a _companion_ would cause stir enough but would be easily weathered. Were I to take him, would cause a _scandal_." Derek warned.

"I dare say, but only briefly. Your rank, station and wealth would encourage society to accept your decision, accept him." Jordan encouraged gently wanting to see his friend happily settled. "He has a pleasing, pleasant personality. You would help him over his shyness and people would warm to him."

"I dare say you are right." Derek agreed. "But I will not venture it. I have Cora to consider and would see her well matched before my own happiness."

"She would not agree." Jordan pointed out.

"She would not, and for that reason will not know of it." He looked sharply at Jordan.

"Not from me." He assured quietly. "So what then _is_ your intent?"

"One kiss will have to suffice. I intend no further advancement in that regard." Derek answered firmly with an air of regret.

 

The next day Stiles did not see Derek excepting mealtimes and briefly in the drawing room in the evening. So there were always others present. They spoke only to pass the time of day and for Stiles to answer a polite enquiry about Lydia's health. Derek's manner was neither friendly nor unfriendly and he smiled briefly.

As for Stiles he did not know if he was relieved or disappointed and so settled for _confused_.

There was an air of tension between them seated in the drawing room but was alleviated when Mr Hale left to play billiards with Mr Parrish. Stiles was not invited and soon asked for and was given leave to keep Lydia company.

Early the next morning Lydia gave notice that she was well enough to quit Lake House and return to Beacon. A servant was dispatched with the news and by mid morning Mr Stilinski's carriage, driver and footman arrived to transport them home.

Mr Parrish saw them off but neither sister or Mr Hale. The latter being engaged in riding. Jordan held Lydia's hand through the carriage window, Stiles already being seated inside.

"Give your parents and family my warmest salutations." They smiled at each other longingly. "Please tell your father that he is _most_ welcome to shoot and fish here any time he has a mind. And you too Master Stiles and your brother." Jordan invited.

Stiles lent forward. "Thank you, you are most kind Sir." 

Where was Derek?

"For yourself Miss Lydia please feel free to call on my sisters and myself or be ill at Lake House any time you please." He grinned.

Lydia blushed and laughed lightly. "You have been too kind Sir and your sisters."

"Well," Jordan stepped reluctantly away from the carriage, "goodbye." He looked up. "Drive on."

The carriage trotted away following the long, curved, drive. Derek galloped up, his eye on the carriage as he reined up by Jordan. "They've gone already?" He swung down and passed the horse off to a groom."I should have liked to say goodbye."

Jordan looked at him sympathetically. "You will have a chance to see him at the ball." He rested a hand on his shoulder.

"You mistake my meaning Jordan, I meant only to say goodbye out of good manners. I have no wish to solicit his company." Derek's voice was coldly measured.

With a brief shake of his head, Jordan let his hand fall with a sigh and turned to go indoors. 

Derek gazed longingly after the carriage until it was out of sight.

 

It was almost a week since their return from Lake House and Erica had chosen a date for the Lake House ball. Lydia was quite recovered and Stiles had pushed Mr Hale's kiss to the back of his mind. Nothing had been seen or heard from either Mr Parrish or Mr Hale or the sisters....

The family were seated at lunch and everyone occupied eating. Mr Stilinski put down his cutlery and produced a letter written on cream paper from one pocket and his spectacles from the other. One he pushed onto his face the other he opened with a flourish.

"I have here a matter of correspondence. I received a letter some time ago and was of a mind to answer but recently, it being a matter of some importance. This is the reply to that reply." He held the letter up. "I hope you have ordered a good dinner Mrs Stilinski for we are to be in receipt of company."

Mrs Stilinski dropped her cutlery and raised her hands excitedly. "Mr Prarrish! Why you sly thing Lydia, not to tell us."

Lydia blinked.

"Erica my angel ring at once for Hill, we must make arrangements."

Erica scraped back her chair and stood, walking to the bell pull.

"It is not Mr Parrish." Everyone looked at Mr Stilinski. "It is from a gentleman I never beheld in all my life."

"Oh Erica gasped. "Colonel Harris, or ummm Captain Ethan Steiner Or Lieutenant Aiden!" She giggled and bounced. Immediately silenced by her father's stern gaze, she sat down.

"It is not. It is from my distant Cousin Mr Daehler ." He gritted his teeth. "A man who may turn you all from this house upon my death!"

"Oh Mr Stilinski," Mrs Stilinski grasped her chest, "pray do not mention the name of that odious man! I think it the wickedest thing that we should be so mortgaged that your own dear children will not inherit your estate!"

"Now, now my dear nothing can relieve Mr Daehler of the crime of inheriting Beacon for we cannot hope to clear the debt, _but_ you may judge him less harshly when you hear what he has to say...."

_"My Dear Sir, the disagreement between yourself and my late honoured father always gave me much unhappiness, and since I have had the misfortune to lose him,"_

Erica snorted and was sternly fixed by her father.

_"to lose him...I have frequently wished to heal the rift._ "

Mr Stilinski peered over his spectacles. "There, Mrs Stilinski is that not good news?."

Mrs Stilinski huffed. 

" _My mind is now made up on the subject and having received my ordination at Easter, I've been fortunate to be distinguished by the patronage of Lord Peter the Duke of Cockfosters whose generosity and charity has installed me at the valuable rectory at Hunsford, here it is my intention to humble myself with grateful respect towards Lord Peter as clergyman. I feel it my duty to promote and establish the blessing of peace in all families within the reach of my influence. On these grounds I hope that my overtures of goodwill are highly welcome, and you will not reject the offered olive branch._

_I am, Sir, very aware of being the means of injuring your family, and assure you of my readiness to make them every possible amends._

_I propose myself the satisfaction of waiting on you and your family on Monday the 18th and shall probably trespass on your hospitality till the Saturday following._ "

Mr Stilinski peered over his spectacles. "I shall not bore you with his travel arrangements, but he is to be here at four O'clock."

 

Stiles spent the afternoon reading in the window seat and at the sound of nearing hooves, raised his head. A small, hired carriage approached the house. He put his book aside. "He's here. Cousin Daehler has arrived." He called.

The family gathered on the drive and watched the carriage approach.

"He must be something of an oddity." Stiles ventured.

"He can be as odd as he likes," his mother replied, "if he has a mind to make amends to you, your brother and sisters, I for one will not discourage him."

Stiles turned to his father."Do you expect him to be a sensible sort of man, Sir.?"

"Indeed Stiles I have great hopes that he is not." His father replied with a smile. "Great hopes...."

The carriage stopped in front of them and Mr Stilinski stepped forward. "My dear Mr Daehler , you are most welcome." He smiled tightly as he held open the door.

The slender clergyman in the black, short tailed coat, white stock, half breeches and grey stockings clambered awkwardly from the carriage in his rounded hat. "Mr and Mrs Stilinski and my dear cousins." He gave a deep bow......

 

They sat around the dining table at dinner. Erica, Isaac and Lydia one side and Mr Daehler , Stiles and Alison the other. 

"May I compliment you on your table Ma'am," Daehler slurped his soup as Mrs Stilinski smiled, "it is gratifying to know that the estate affords such a generous living."

Mrs Stilinski choked and looked furious.

"Ah..." Mr Stilinski sought to stem a disaster. "you are much blessed so I believe in your patron, Mr Daehler ?"

Daehler dabbed at the soup trickling down his chin with his napkin. "Indeed Sir I am _most_ fortunate." He sipped his wine. " Ah, Lord Peter," he spoke with awe and reverence. "I have been treated Sir with such agreeability, such civility that I would never dare dream of."

Stiles fought to keep a straight face.

"I have been invited not once but _twice_ to dine at Eichen House." He paused waiting for the gasps, but received none. 

"And tell me Sir, is Eichen House a great distance from where you live?" Mr Stilinski queried.

"Indeed the grounds are separated from my own humble garden by a mere lane." Daehler looked around the table grinning broadly.

"My word only by a lane eh?" Mr Stilinski eyebrows rose. "Did you hear that Stiles? Just a lane." Mr Stilinski teased so that Stiles had to hide his laughter behind a napkin.

"I believe you said His Lordship is a widower?" Mrs Stilinski asked.

"Quite so Ma'am." Daehler affirmed.

"Has he any family?"

"He has but one daughter the heiress of Eichen House and extensive estates."

"And has she been presented at court?"

"I fear Ma'am that the Lady Malia is of such a very delicate," he frowned and motioned with his hand, "... _constitution_ that it forbids her from being in Town entirely.. And so, as I told His Lordship myself one day, deprives the court of its brightest jewel...." He gave snorting laugh turning to Mr Stilinski. "As you will imagine Sir I am most happy at every opportunity to offer those delicate little compliments as ladies are most fond."

Allison and Erica made deep sighing sounds and rolled their eyes.

"It is most fortunate for you Mr Daehler that you possess, " Mr Stilinski dabbed his mouth with his napkin, " an extraordinary talent for flattering with such delicacy. May I boldly enquire if they stem from an impulse of the moment or are the result of previous study?"

Stiles giggled helplessly behind his napkin.

Mr Daehler leaned forward an earnest look upon his face. "They stem Sir, chiefly from the impulse of the moment but I must flatter myself that I do make note of and arrange those compliments as may be adapted for ordinary occasions. But I try strenuously to give then as unstudied an air as possible."

"Excellent," Mr Stilinski glanced smiling at Stiles, "just excellent."

 

The next morning the girls played quoits in the wintry sun and Stiles was charged with entertaining their cousin. They walked slowly on the graveled path through the garden.

"I must indicate dear cousin Stiles, having an ulterior motive in coming to Beacon. " Daehler confessed darkly his hands behind his back.

Stiles tensed.

"Beside that of meeting yourselves and healing the rift between our families." He paused. "You are very fortunate in having delightful and pretty sisters."

Stiles looked toward his sisters.

"They are indeed and I am most fortunate." Stiles agreed.

"Perhaps most of all the eldest, Miss Lydia." Daehler smiled.

"Lydia has the sweetest nature of anyone of my acquaintance and you can see yourself her beauty." Stiles commented cautiously.

"Quite so." Daehler smile widened.

"She is much admired wherever she goes. Not least at Lake House ." Stiles added hurriedly .

Daehler blinked.

"It is no secret that we fully expect her to be shortly engaged to our neighbour, Mr Parrish." Stiles nodded.

"Ah..." Daehler's face fell. "Are any of your other Sisters..."

"They have their admirers, but none are on the verge of engagement that I am aware of." Stiles answered truthfully.

Daehler looked from one girl to the next and his eyes settled on Allison.

 

Erica ran up to them, breathless and laughing.

"Mamma says we may run into Mereton and visit Aunt Martin if you go with us. Will you come?.... Pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeee." She wheedled.

Stiles looked at Daehler . "Will you join us Sir?"

Erica rolled her eyes.

Daehler gazed at Allison. "I believe I will.."

 

It was Daehler intention to walk into Mereton with Allison, and engage her in stimulating conversation, but it was not to be. Allison and Erica forged ahead in their red cloaks and bonnets. Lydia and Isaac followed and Stiles was left at the rear with a wheezing Daehler as he laboured to cover the distance. As they reached the stone bridge that spanned the wide, shallow river, Daehler stopped and leaned heavily on the parapet. Stiles leaned over and viewed the water as Daehler wheezed.

"It is not far now Cousin and Aunt Martin will have refreshment prepared for us." Stiles encouraged. "Not as grand as Eichen House, but welcome nonetheless."

"I congratulate myself, dear Cousin in possessing that happy disposition that allows me to go among the highest to the lowest so desirable in a clergyman. " Daehler wheezed. "And although it may be called a gift of nature I pride myself in having made an art of it."

"You are a fortunate man Cousin Daehler in the possession of so many happy talents. Were I so half as blessed." Stiles walked on and Daehler struggled in his wake.

By the time they reached Mereton's half cobbled streets Erica and Allison were arguing over which would look best in a bonnet displayed in a milliner's window. Lydia was trying to maintain peace and Isaac looked on sourly.

Stiles scowled and the girls fell silent. Then Erica looked up.

"There, there! It's Ethan!" She bounced and waved.

The others followed her gaze.

"Who is that tall, dark man with him?" Allison squinted. "He is very handsome."

"He would be more handsome in the red. A man looks much better in regimentals." Erica commented. "I cannot wait for you to take up a commission Stiles.You will look so dashing in the red and you can bring all the unmarried officers home." She and Allison giggled.

Mr Daehler choked at such impropriety, Stiles rolled his eyes and Lydia looked sympathetic.

"Erica! You know quite well father has forbidden Stiles taking a commission!" Lydia admonished.

"Well I do not see why." She pouted. "He would look well in regimentals and he should think of us and the opportunities we would have."

Lydia rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Ethan! Ethan!" Erica called at the top of her voice, stood on tip-toe and waved.

"Erica!" Lydia ducked her head in embarrassment, "He will hear! Oh Lord they look this way."

"That is the idea you goose!" Erica laughed.

"Erica!" Stiles tried to sound firm, "you are showing yourself and your sisters up!"

"Pfft!" Erica kept on waving.

"Oh goodness!" Lydia exclaimed in alarm, "they are coming over."

They watched as the young Captain crossed the street dodging around a hay cart and riders. With him was an athletic gentleman in a grey, long coat and tall hat, half breeches and black riding boots. He carried a smart, black cane and walked with a confident swagger. He had dark good looks and piercing blue eyes.

Ethan grinned and saluted Erica. 

"What a good joke, we thought you still in Town." Erica bubbled and thread her arm through Ethan's.

"There was nothing of interest to keep us there and so we are come back to Mereton." Ethan explained with a good nature. "May I have leave to present my good friend Mr Theo Raeken." 

He gestured to the gentleman beside him who smiled, took off his hat and made a sweeping bow. 

Ethan introduced them in turn. "Master Stiles Stilinski, Miss Lydia Stilinski, Master Isaac Stilinski, Miss Allison Stilinski and Miss Erica Stilinski." He indicated to each in turn, Stiles nodded and the girls bobbed..

Stiles gestured to Mr Daehler . "This is our Cousin, Mr Daehler ."

Daehler bowed.

"Are you staying long in Mereton, Mr Raeken?" Stiles enquired.

Raeken leaned on his cane. "All winter I am happy to say. I've taken a commission in Colonel Harris's regiment."

"There Erica, he will be dressed in regimentals!" Allison giggled and Erica joined in.

"And lend them much distinction. " Ethan's voice betrayed amusement. "Out _swagger_ us all I dare say. Eh, Raeken?"

"Steiner, you misrepresent me to these young ladies and their brothers." Raeken smiled.

"Shall you come to our Aunt Martin this evening Mr Raeken?" Erica asked.

"Oh yes, Captain Steiner and Lieutenant Steiner are coming." Allison added.

Stiles and Lydia exchanged looks.

"It is only supper and cards, but we will have some laughs." Erica encouraged.

"I have not been introduced to Mr and Mrs Martin nor invited." Raeken pointed out.

"Nobody cares a jot about that sort of thing these days!" Erica assured him.

"Erica!" Stiles hissed under his breath.

"If Mrs Martin extends the invitation to include myself, I shall be honoured to attend." Raeken smiled warmly and inclined his head. 

Stiles smiled.

 

Mr Parrish's grey and Derek's tall black entered the street and Jordan at once spied Lydia and rode toward her.

"Look Lydia, it is Mr Parrish." Allison pointed.

Lydia smiled as he rode toward her, Derek hung back a little. Jordan halted, dismounted and approached Lydia with a smile. "How very fortunate to see you here. We were just riding to Beacon to ask after your health." He smiled warmly.

Stiles's eyes drifted over Raeken's shoulder to Mr Hale. Derek inclined his head with a smile. A sensuous look passed between them. He bobbed his head with a slight smile in return.

Raeken caught Stiles's look and turned to see the cause of it. As soon as he turned Derek's smile froze on his face and his eyes betrayed recognition. 

Raeken inclined his head.

Derek's smile was replaced by such a look of fury as Stiles never hoped he was the cause of. He reined the black up sharply, wheeled around and rode away.

Stiles looked between them with a frown.

Raeken turned again to face him with a disturbed, pensive countenance.

Mr Parrish seeing that he was abandoned by his friend hurriedly made his goodbyes, mounted his horse and went after him.

Stiles was riddled with pointed speculation.

 

Mr and Mrs Martin possessed a smart house of generous proportions and elegantly appointed. Mrs Martin was Mrs Stilinski elder Sister and dark haired. There the similarity ended. She was taller, slimmer and more sharply featured. In personality she tended to be more satisfied with her lot in life, though mindful of her station which she took to be a deal more elevated then it was. Mr Martin was a successful Attorney in Mereton and they had a generous income. Mrs Martin was fond of giving parties and did so frequently. She was generous with her invitations and when Erica made Mr Raeken's name known to her, he was immediately included in the standing invitation to the officers billeted in Mereton. A party was to take place that very evening to which, of course her nephew, nieces and Mr Daehler were already invited.

Erica dashed into the room her skirt flapping and almost toppling the footman, towing Allison behind her in her search for Ethan. 

"There, there he is," she homed in on the said gentleman.

Stiles stood with Lydia, Mrs Martin and Mr Daehler in a small group, sipping punch as guests milled, talked, laughed and drank about them. Already several card tables had been set up and games of Whist were underway. He had strict instructions to keep his cousin out of the way and _entertained_.

"You have a delightful little apartment here, Mrs Martin." Mr Daehler looked about with a somewhat disdainful expression on his face. "It puts me much in mind of the _small_ summer breakfast room at Eichen House."

Stiles felt his aunt tense, she was very proud of her parlour.

"Does it indeed Mr Daehler ?" She answered sharply. "I am gratified to hear it I am sure."

"You misunderstand Mr Daehler , aunt it was clearly meant as a compliment." Stiles stepped in.

"Was it?"

Stiles sought to soothe ruffled feathers. "Eichen House we must understand, very grand indeed."

His aunt's eyebrows rose.

"It is indeed," Daehler added, _very_ grand." He saw Mrs Martin continued sour expression. "Forgive me Ma'am if I cast any slight on your very excellent arrangements," he wheedled, "I am mortified to think I may have given offence. Eichen House is the country residence of my noble patron... _Lord_ Peter, Duke of Cockfosters."

"Oh," Mrs Martin nodded, "now Sir I understand." She smiled tightly.

"The chimney piece in the second largest drawing room cost _eight hundred pounds_ alone."

Mrs Martin gasped. "Now I see it Sir, no offence was meant at all." 

They inclined heads as a sign that peace between them was restored.

Stiles turned to look about the room and his eye was caught by Mr Raeken smiling at him. He was wearing the figure hugging red coat, white breeches and black riding boots of a Lieutenant. Stiles noted that Steiner had been correct and he did look well in them. Raeken inclined his head and Stiles did the same before returning to the conversation.

"Will you join me in sitting down to a game of Whist Mr Daehler ?" Mrs Martin invited.

"Thank you Ma'am I know little of card games, " He nodded, "but am always ready to improve myself, if my cousins will release me?" He looked questioningly at Stiles.

"You go ahead Cousin, Lydia and I will occupy ourselves." Stiles gave him leave to go.

They watched as he departed with their aunt.

"Thank God!" Stiles huffed. "To be rid of the wretched man."

"Now Stiles, he is not so very awful and he his our relative." Lydia admonished gently.

Stiles gave her a quizzical look.

"Well all right," she relented, "he _is_ quite awful." They shared a soft laugh.

Isaac dashed through the room, a sheet of paper in his hand and took up position in the centre and began to recite a poem to any who were inclined to listen.

Allison and Erica sat and played Whist with Ethan and Aiden and were surrounded by attentive officers.

Mr Daehler was causing chaos at his Whist table.

Lydia went and engaged in conversation with young ladies of her acquaintance and Stiles found himself seated alone but not for long. Barely two minutes after sitting down he was joined by a smiling Theo.

Theo claimed a seat beside him. They shared a smile. "I confess I thought I would never escape your younger sisters." He chuckled.

"They can be very determined, particularly Erica." Stiles commiserated and looked to where she giggled.

"Ah, but they are pleasant, sweet girls and enchanting company." Theo added. "Steiner tells me that he hears from your sister you are to take a commission?" He quizzed.

Stiles snorted. "I had a brief notion of doing so. Erica would be delighted if I did, but my father expressly forbids it and I have to agree with him. It was an ill conceived plan."

"How so?"

"I am not in disposition well suited to the life and I become faint at the sight of blood." He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "Particularly my own."

"But that is the purpose of purchasing a commission," Theo explained,"we send others to bleed for us."

Stiles frowned at the remark. "I confess military tactics are not a study of mine, but I would think you simplify the case."

Theo did not answer.

"It is a great pity." Theo smiled. "A young man of your looks and figure would carry regimentals well. You would look damned handsome I am sure."

Stiles ducked his head.

"And I for one, would most welcome your society." He added in a warm voice. "The society in Hertfordshire greatly exceeds my expectations."

"Would everyone thought as kindly." Stiles remarked casually.

Theo looked about. "I do not see Mr Parrish or his friends present tonight."

Stiles drew a breath. "I rather think some of Mr Parrish's friends would deem such a gathering beneath their dignity." His look was one of faint amusement.

"Really?" Theo leant forward. "You surprise me." One corner of his mouth tipped into a smile. "Err......... Have you been acquainted with Mr Hale long?"

"About a month." Stiles answered. "You are acquainted with the gentleman?"

Theo leant back. "I have known him all my life." He stated.

Stiles's brow furrowed and he looked perplexed. "But, but today when he saw you..."

"Ah, you noted his _cold_ manner."

"I confess I did." 

Theo nodded solemnly, looking away and then turning back, spoke. "Are you _much_ acquainted with Mr Hale?" He queried.

"As much as I would wish to be I think. I recently spent time in the same house as he and found his manner not to my liking and somewhat confusing." A myriad of feelings were expressed in Stiles's eyes as he spoke.

"There are few that would share that opinion I fear, but myself."

Stiles frowned. "He has made few friends here in Hertfordshire. He has made it plain he finds the society beneath him and has expressed certain opinions about my family which I found personally disagreeable. Everyone is astounded by his pride and arrogance."

"Do you know," Theo began tentatively, "if he intends to stay long in Hertfordshire?"

"That Sir, I do not, but I hope it will not effect your plans to stay?"

"Thank you, but it is not for me to be driven away by Mr Hale. Should he wish it, it is he must avoid _my_ society. It is true we are not on friendly terms but I have no reason to avoid him save one..." Theo looked about to see they were not overheard and leaned in toward Stiles. "I regret, Stiles, he has done me great wrong..."

Stiles leant forward eagerly a look of concentration and query on his face. "Mr Hale?"

"My Father was old Mr Hale's Steward and friend, that gentleman was my Godfather. Old Mr Hale was very unlike his son, quite the kindest, most generous and noble of men. I am the same age as Derek and we played and through the generosity of his father, were schooled together as boys." Stiles nodded. "It happened following the death of my father and having no near relative, I was taken into the bosom of the family. I was cared for and for a time he and I were as much as brothers might be. I believe Old Mr Hale loved me as a second son." Theo turned away, clearly upset.

Stiles shared his distress.

Theo composed himself.

"It was always my dearest wish to enter the church and my Godfather rejoiced in this. He stipulated in his Will that when a living of which he was patron fell vacant, it was to be mine...The living fell vacant some six months after he passed away and the son refused point blank to honour his father's wishes and gave it to another."

Stiles gasped. He believed Derek capable of many things but he would _never_ have thought him a dishonourable man.

"And so you see, I must make my own way and be forever estranged from a man I once thought of as a brother." Theo concluded sadly.

A deep crease appeared between Stiles eyes. "This is shocking news and if it was generally known would do great and irreparable damage to Mr Hale's reputation." He shook his head in dismay. "I had never thought him as bad as this, to refuse his father's wishes...." He thought quickly. "But Sir a Will is a legal document. Have you sort redress through the courts?" He looked about. "Come let us find my uncle, he is an Attorney and will best know how to proceed."

Theo caught his hand as he stood and drew him back into his seat. "Stay."

"But Sir, he has done you great wrong and deserves to be publicly censured and disgraced." Stiles protested.

"And one day he will be..." Theo gestured helplessly."But not by me. I have too much affection for the memory of his dear father and our boyhood to publicly censure or defy him."

Stiles submerged himself deep in thought and shook his head. "You show great forbearance and generosity of spirit Sir. I have to wonder at Mr Hale's conceit, pride and arrogance, it would seem even more than he has yet displayed himself capable of." He looked up. "Did he give any reason for his actions?"

"I fear most that it was simple resentment." Theo frowned. "His father did not hide the fact that I was perhaps preferred," he shrugged matter-of-factly, "I fear he acted out of revenge and jealousy."

Stiles gave a sympathetic huff. "I have to remark that you show far more restraint than I would under such circumstances."

"Happily I am not possessed of a revengeful or resentful nature as are some men." He gave a thin smile. "And my present situation is cause for much thankfulness. I hate to be idle and my employment sees me much occupied. My fellow officers are excellent men and now I find myself accepted in society as agreeable as any I have known." He smiled leaning forward. "I forbid you to feel sorry for me."

Which was exactly how Stiles felt.

Erica materialized beside Theo's chair. 

"What is this Stiles? Why should you feel sorry for Mr Raeken?" She questioned with a frown and cock of her head.

Theo gave Stiles a warning look, which was not needed. "Because Miss Erica, I have not danced these three months past." He laughed.

"Not danced!" Erica looked horrified."Then you shall dance now!" She grasped his hands and Theo allowed himself to be pulled to his feet . He cast an apologetic smile at Stiles.

" Play something lively!" Erica demanded of the pianist. 

The tempo of the music quickened and Stiles watched as Erica and Theo danced.


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles sat in his dressing gown on the edge of Lydia's bed and watched as she brushed her hair, her fringed shawl about her shoulders over her heavy nightdress. "I am sorry Stiles," she looked at his reflection in the mirror, "I cannot believe so ill of Mr Hale as you say. I am aware that we may not have witnessed the best of him," she paused, "but I refuse to believe he would have so little respect for his father to behave so abominably." She frowned. "Consider Stiles that Mr Parrish cannot have any knowledge of it to call him such a dear friend or it would indicate a flaw in his nature I do not believe exists.."

"I have no doubt Mr Parrish does not know of it." Stiles answered. "I would rather believe him deceived and put upon by Mr Hale than Mr Raeken fabricate such infamy." He stated firmly.

Lydia turned around on her stool to face him and continued to brush her hair. "I think we must be careful in our judgement. We have only one side of the story and there may be more of which we are not privy." Lydia cautioned.

"I do not see it." Stiles shook his head briefly, " Mr Raeken is possessed of an open and guileless manner, he furnished details without being asked and names. He is very restrained in his judgement of Mr Hale, far more than I would be in the same circumstances." Stiles protested.

Lydia's eyebrow rose elegantly. "And I think your judgement colored by finding Mr Raeken's company easier and more agreeable than Mr Hale's."

" I do not deny it." Stiles agreed. "I do find Mr Raeken more agreeable company. He is not disdainful of our society, he is not proud or judgmental, he has an easy manner and natural merriment despite how he has been treated."

Even so Lydia was disinclined to believe Mr Hale so dishonorable a gentleman as Mr Raeken's story indicated.

"I caution you Stiles not to be prejudiced against Mr Hale on Mr Raeken's word alone. After such a brief acquaintance should we believe in Mr Raeken so implicitly?"

"I do not see how he is to be doubted." Stiles persisted stubbornly. "And if it is not an accurate account, let Mr Hale contradict it. Besides there was truth in all his looks."

Lydia gave a heavy sigh. "It is difficult, distressing to think ill of any gentleman. She lowered her brush. "One does not know what to think...." 

" _I_ know exactly _what_ I think." Stiles said with a decisive nod.

Derek was a villain in his eyes.

 

Mid morning the next day they sat in the drawing room. Stiles reading, Lydia at her embroidery and Isaac occupied with Mr Daehler going through a particularly vexing Psalm, Allison and Erica tried on bonnets in front of the mirror...

"Well, well," Mrs Stilinski entered beaming and waving a letter aloft. "It is here at last!" She sat down. "Our invitation to the Lake House ball, we are all invited and you too Mr Daehler."

Erica bounced alarmingly. "I love a ball!"

"Me too," Allison giggled.

Daehler looked up grinning broadly and clasped his hands.

"Me too, I am invited?" 

Stiles looked up from his book, the thought of another night entertaining his cousin weighing heavily. "But do you think you should attend sir? Stiles frowned. "Would your Bishop approve?"

"Oh, " Daehler frowned, "Your concerns do you credit dear cousin Stiles, but I believe so. I do not see the danger in attending such a gathering as this, given by a gentleman of good character to respectable people. It cannot have any evil intent. And I do love to dance myself." He stood and inclined toward Allison. "I do hope for the opportunity to dance with all my pretty cousins."

Allison gagged.

"And Miss Allison, may I claim the first two dances?" He gave a nasal laugh.

Allison's eyes widened in horror and Erica hooted with laugher, Allison vaulted to her feet and bolted out of the door.

"There now, she is overcome with delight at the honour you do her sir." Mrs Stilinski beamed.

Stiles sighed deeply.

That afternoon Ethan, Aiden and Theo came to call. Theo claiming he came at Ethan's behest. He was welcomed and Erica and Allison withdrew to the garden where they took turns to be pushed on the old swing that hung from the branch of the Oak tree . Stiles was charged with being chaperone and walked with his cousin and Theo. Lydia and Isaac remained indoors.

"I dare say Mr Raeken that you can imagine the great splendour of the home when I reveal to you that the chimney piece alone in the second drawing room cost _eight hundred pounds_." Daehler intoned.

"My word! Eight hundred Mr Daehler......I imagine it is very large." Theo replied drolly.

"Indeed it is sir, very large, very grand." Daehler smiled and nodded with enthusiasm...

"I imagine his Lordship very fond of a good blaze?" Theo responded with a straight face.

Stiles hid his amusement behind his hand and a cough.

Lydia ran toward them. 

"Mr Daehler, Mr Daehler!" She joined them. "I come on behalf of Isaac. He has found a passage in Fordyce's Sermons For Young Gentlemen which vexes him greatly and he requests your immediate assistance."

"Well I....I...." Daehler gestured loathe to leave....

""I believe Sir it is a doctrinal emergency." Lydia stated firmly giving him a commanding look.

"Oh well, of course.." Daehler gave a thin smile.

"Thank you sir, we are in the drawing room." Lydia gestured for him to join her.

Stiles and Theo watched as they hurried toward the house.

Erica let out a peal of laughter and both Stiles and Theo looked to where the girls were being chased by the young officers. Stiles made to intervene fearing his younger sister's impropriety. Theo caught his arm.

"Let them enjoy themselves, they will not come to any harm with Ethan and Aiden."

Reluctantly Stiles nodded and they walked on.

"Your cousin's conversation appears to be confined to one topic, that of his patron." Theo observed.

"I fear so," Stiles nodded, "and there is a great deal of it," he sighed tiredly."Have you yet been introduced to Mr Parrish?"

"Regretfully not, but I am already disposed to think well of that gentleman. He has issued a general invitation to the officers for his ball at Lake House. It has caused much happiness I can assure you."

They shared a smile.

"Are you disposed to attend?" Stiles asked hopefully, sensing someone to converse with besides Scott.

"Indeed I am." Theo assured him. "He must be a very amiable sort of gentleman?"

He is," Stiles nodded, "eager to approve of everyone he meets, but a sensible man with taste and judgement." His eyes flickered to Theo's face. "I cannot help but wonder at his close association with such a gentleman as Mr Hale. I do not believe he knows his true nature."

"Probably not." Theo shrugged dismissively. "Mr Hale can please who he chooses when it is worth his while. Among his peers, of rank, wealth and consequence he is considered liberal minded, honourable, agreeable and even kind."

"I wonder you can speak of him so." Stiles puffed out a breath.

"He is not wholly bad. Few men are without some redeeming feature." He is very fond of his sister, Miss Cora."

"What manner of young lady is she?" Stiles asked curiously.

"I would wish very much that I could say she was an amiable young lady." He spoke without inflection. "As a child she was affectionate and pleasing. I was devoted to her and she to me. I spent many happy hours in her amusement. But I fear she has grown too much like her brother in pride. I never see her now, of course. It is one of my many regrets...." He looked away a moment as if the recollection caused him distress and then turned back. " Since her father's death she has lived almost entirely in London. She must be what? " He grew thoughtful. "Sixteen, your sister's age," he nodded toward Erica.

"Erica is only just fifteen." Stiles corrected. 

"Really?" Theo replied with a thoughtful glance in her direction.They resumed walking slowly. "I was much amused by your cousin's obvious awe of the Duke of Cockfosters." Theo inclined his head. " You are aware he is Mr Hale's uncle? His late mother's younger brother"

"No indeed." Stiles gave a surprised shake of his head.

"His daughter the Lady Malia, is destined to be his bride."

"Really?" Stiles halted momentarily a shudder of what? Regret? Rolling through him.

Theo nodded. "They have been betrothed since her infancy."

"Oh, " Stiles blinked before resuming walking.

"You appear..... surprised?" Theo queried.

"I am." Stiles confirmed. "And so I imagine is Miss Parrish."

 

The night of Lake House ball the carriages circled in front of the grand house. The arrangement was simple. Carriages trotted up the long, straight drive and waited to join the circle in front of the house. One by one they joined the circle, when in position they dropped off their precious loads, circled round and exited back up the long drive. The same arrangement would be used to pick up passengers at the end of the evening. In this way things were kept moving along, for there were a great many guests.

Mr Stilinski had been prevailed upon, long and loudly, to hire a second carriage for the occasion. So it was Mr Stilinski, Stiles. Isaac and Mr Daehler traveled in the small Stilinski carriage and Mrs Stilinski and the girls in the larger, hired conveyance. Both carriages reached the point of disembarkation together and the gentlemen aided the ladies from their carriage. It so happened Stiles was prompted to look up and saw Mr Hale watching him from an upper window. His lips were a thin, somewhat grim, straight, line, he stared at Stiles intently for a moment and then turned away somewhat contemptuously and moved from view. Stiles gave a mental huff and fell in beside Lydia, behind his parents and cousin and in front of his sisters and brother

It seemed anyone of slightest consequence was there and all the officers. Ladies in fine ball gowns and dripping with jewels, men in evening dress. They were ushered through the main hall, their coats and cloaks removed by liveried footmen. They filtered toward the ballroom past the assembled family, who greeted each in turn with warmth according to their rank. Mr and Mrs Blake (he stood behind her and said nothing), Miss Katherine to Mrs Hamilton's right and Mr Parrish to her right. There was no sign of Mr Hale.

Rooms adjoining the ballroom had been thrown open to serve drinks and act as areas in which to meet, greet and converse.

It came to their turn to be greeted.

Stiles bowed to Mrs Hamilton and Lydia was greeted by Kate. "Miss Lydia how delightful to see you!" She lent forward and made a show of kissing each of Lydia's cheeks. Her face fell when she beheld Stiles and the rest of his family. "Jennifer and I have been quite desolate without you. " She looked along the line. "And Master Stiles and I see you brought _all_ your family." She forced a smile and stared at Mr Daehler. "Mr Stilinski," she inclined her head, "Mrs Stilinski." your _lovely_ daughters and...."

"Allow me to introduce our cousin Mr Daehler." Mr Stilinski smiled.

"Quite." Kate grimaced.

Lydia had already moved on to a warm greeting by Jordan. He broke protocol by taking her arm and leaving the line before all his guests had been greeted, despite heated glares from his sisters.

Erica and Allison spied the officers and ran to them giggling happily, Isaac clutched a sheet of poetry (lest despite the chamber orchestra he be required to entertain the guests with his oratory skills), and followed his parents, Mr Daehler pursued Allison and Stiles admired the splendour of the occasion and their surroundings. Lydia saw him looking lost and with little prompting Jordan asked him to walk with them into the ball room.

Gratefully he walked beside them.

Almost as soon as he entered he was approached by Captain Steiner.

"Master Stiles."

They nodded to each other.

"I have been charged by my friend Mr Raeken to deliver his apologies. He is unable to attend as he had hoped. He has been called away to London on urgent matters. Though a lot less urgent I think excepting the presence of one certain gentleman. " He turned and glared at Derek watching them intently from across the room. Derek met his gaze boldly and did not look away and eventually Steiner turned back. 

"Thank you." Stiles gave a disappointed smile, his hopes for an evening of pleasant conversation dashed.

"Ethan! Ethan! _There_ you are!" Erica bounced up and secured his arm. "I have been searching for you! Allison already dances with Aiden, c'mon." She dragged him away.

Ethan cast an apologetic look at Stiles.

The orchestra played and Stiles sighed and found himself abandoned in a sea of unfamiliar people.

Derek leaned against the wall and studied Stiles. He fought an inner turmoil. His heart wanted to rush to Stiles's side and yet his intellect warred with the idea. The boy was totally unsuitable. He was too young, his station too low, his family impossible and his connections pitiful. He would be the object of criticism enough for taking a _companion_. But this would yet be borne because of his rank, as an eccentricity of nature. To take one so unsuitable would be to engage his family's censure, society's ridicule and possible rejection, for a time at least.

Society needed _him_ a lot more than _he_ needed it.

Eventually there was little doubt Stiles would _be_ accepted, even welcomed in the highest society as his _companion_ as long as discretion and etiquette were followed.

He had never wished to father a child, in fact the whole process was odious to him. Not because he objected to intercourse with a woman, that had happened several times, nor to children. He greatly looked forward to being a doting uncle to Cora's, but rather he felt like a breeding bull. The responsibility falling to him to sire the necessary heir. He was quite content to see his estate pass to his sister's children.

On that score there was no difficulty.

His heart refused to listen to his head and why should it when it hardly knew its own mind? Reason warred with desire. He might never meet another like Stiles, indeed the boy was unique. He was his match in wit, intellect, humour and manners. He had no fear of censuring him for his perceived failings, which was refreshing. He argued eloquently, was as stubborn as he, refreshingly honest and open. Capable of kindness, affection and love. He did not suffer fools and did not go easily among strangers. He was loyal, his life-long friendship with Master McCall told him so. And to his eyes, he was beautiful. Perfectly proportioned and in possession of the most wonderful,expressive and honest eyes he had ever seen and ...... _oh so kissable lips._

Derek prided himself on being a rational, level-headed man. He did not allow feelings to rule his life. He was measured, orderly and restrained in every quarter of his dealings. Those who did not know him well, easily thought him a man devoid of feeling, devoid of emotion, without passion.......... His few closest friends knew better. Derek felt things deeply and his passion was such that if he did not hold it back it would overwhelm him and those around him. To be so undone by Stiles was an almost frightening experience. It _annoyed_ him that without doing anything to warrant it, Stiles had robbed him of his rationality. He had tried in vain to forget the boy, indeed the more he tried the more the opposite was true. He longed to see him and yet he dreaded it.

He had made up his mind to drop the association completely, but the truth was he could as soon cut off his arm. He had but to see the boy and his heart ached and his body hummed with desire for him. Not only the carnal pleasures. He wanted him to be part of his life, to wake with him and go to sleep with Stiles's face the last thing he saw. He forgot his poor circumstances and glaring unsuitability.

In short his heart ruled his head, he felt out of control and he did not like it.

Drowning among the sea of people, Stiles was unaware of Derek's intense scrutiny and the inner turmoil of which he was the cause. He spied Scott standing alone in the corner and made his way to him.

Derek pushed off from the wall and started across the room to Stiles just as Stiles started toward Scott. He stopped and huffed out a breath in frustration and moved back to his former position. Leaned against the wall and watched as Stiles drew Scott into a hug.

"Scott, thank goodness you're here." Stiles's smile indicated his relief. 

"I am pleased to see you also." Scott sighed. Mother and father are occupied introducing Lorilee. This is her first real ball you know and the poor thing is quite overwhelmed."

"Have you a moment to converse?" Scott nodded and they found a corner out of the way of the dancers. 

Derek prowled around the edge of the dance floor, never taking his eyes off Stiles. He watched the way he talked, smiled, gestured, dipped his head, wishing perhaps he was Scott and in receipt Stiles's attentive and friendly looks.

Derek was momentarily distracted by loud giggling from Erica and Allison as they danced with the young officers. A momentary look of disapproval marred his handsome features. It was immediately seized upon by Miss Parrish and she appeared beside him and took his arm.

"Poor Mr Hale how you must be suffering agonies at the quality of society present." She commiserated.

"What?"Derek frowned at her.

"I see how your sensibilities are offended. I wonder at dear Jordan inviting these awful people, " she followed his gaze to Stiles, " at least the Stilinski boy is more restrained than his younger sisters." She admitted grudgingly, nodding to where Stiles stood with Scott.

Derek followed her gaze and the corners of his mouth twitched into a smile. "Yes indeed he possesses delightful manners." He replied politely.

"Can you be prevailed upon to dance, Sir?" Kate smiled.

Derek gave a quick glance to Stiles. Good manners dictated that he take Kate's hint and it was an unobtrusive method of keeping him in his sights.

"Indeed Ma'am, I would be delighted." He bowed and led Kate onto the dance floor and they joined the line, below where Stiles and Scott talked.

Several minutes after Derek and Kate joined the line, Scott and Stiles left. Derek would have followed immediately but good manners prevailed and he danced on.

Stiles led Scott to a quiet corner.

"I have such news to impart concerning Mr Hale and his dealings with Mr Raeken." He began eagerly. "It throws Mr Hale's honour into disrepute."

Scott frowned. "Mr Hale may have many faults Stiles, pride, arrogance, and an unfortunate manner. But I would have never thought his honour in doubt."

"What I have to impart will shock you in it's despicable nature." Stiles nodded.

Stiles revealed to Scott the exact story as it had been told to by Theo. He was somewhat disappointed that he did not gasp in horror, did not share his outrage and was altogether an impassive listener. Stiles was at pains to stress Theo's open and honest nature, his forbearance under such trying circumstances and the very great wrong he believed Mr Hale had done him.

Scott sighed heavily. "These are grievous charges against Mr Hale, Stiles and if true would do his reputation great harm." He looked thoughtful. " I can hardly believe them wholly accurate. Are you sure they're true?"

"Scott how can you doubt it? Stiles motioned. "Every detail, every particular was freely given and can be supported. There was an open honesty in Mr Raeken's manner and looks and it was obvious that he was deeply aggrieved."

"That's as maybe, but hearing only one side of a story seldom reveals the entire facts." Scott warned. "Each teller seeks to show his part in the best light and the truth may lie somewhere in the middle."

"Oh Scott!" Stiles huffed in exasperation. Why did he and Lydia not see as he did, Mr Hale's villainy? "I really do not know how you and Lydia can support him. He has boasted to me himself of his resentful, implacable nature."

"I do not _support_ him, " Scott huffed, "only warn you against your quick judgement and in slighting a man like Mr Hale because you find the company of your new friend more amiable." Scott counseled. "Mr Hale is a hundred times his consequence and in the way to do your family great good."

Stiles frowned. "He dislikes my family," Stiles pointed out, "my station and poor connections ."

"He might, " Scott agreed, "but from the way he studies you, he does _not_ dislike you."

"He probably finds me an oddity." Stiles pouted and folded his arms over his chest.

Scott smiled. "Whatever it is he does you honour singling you out. And he has Mr Parrish's ear." He nodded to where Lydia and Jordan danced. "He can also do you great good... I have no doubt he could put you in the way of suitable employment ."

They were disturbed by a servant's cough and Mr Daehler stood by them grinning.

"Oh, Mr Daehler.... Scott, allow me to introduce my cousin Mr Daehler. Mr Daehler this is my good friend Mr Scott McCall."

Scott tipped his head. "Mr Daehler."

"Mr McCall. " He bowed. "I am always delighted to meet a friend of my dear cousin's." He looked about. "Would the young lady I see standing with your esteemed parents be perhaps a relative?"

Scott smiled. "Very much so, my younger sister, Lorilee."

"Wonderful!" 

Scott cast a glance at Stiles and addressed Mr Daehler. "Would you care to be introduced Sir?"

Cousin Daehler rocked back on his heels with pleasure. "Indeed I would be humbly grateful and honored if it is not an imposition nor too bold."

Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Be assured Sir it is neither." Scott nodded.

Stiles blinked as he watched them walk away. What on earth possessed Scott to introduce the wretched man to his sister and parents?" He was a deserted again and made his way to the punch table to occupy himself by getting a drink. He used the silver ladle to fill a crystal glass with punch and sipped it trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

Derek led Kate from the dance floor and excused himself and searched through the mass of people for Stiles. He saw him by the punch bowl and went in that direction.

Stiles looked up and caught sight of Mr Hale coming toward him an almost predatory look in his eyes. Their eyes met and Stiles's heart began to pound and he shivered with a delicious mixture of fear and excitement.

Derek stood in front of Stiles and gave a somewhat stiff, formal bow.

"Master Stiles."

"Mr Hale." Stiles replied with a bob of his head.

"I hope you are well and your family?"Derek enquired formally.

"Thank you we are as you see us, Sir." Stiles replied, a tight grip on his crystal glass. "I hope you are well, Sir?"

"As you see, I am, thank you."Derek's mouth twitched a little.

Stiles took a sip of punch. Wishing Derek would go _and_ yet wanting him to stay.

"As you are not presently engaged Master Stiles, would you perhaps do me the honour of joining me on the terrace for a cigar?"

Stiles was taken aback. The nerve of the wretched man! He wanted to say no, but his eyes drifted to where Lydia and Jordan danced and he thought of Scott's words. He would not for the world jeopardize her chances with Jordan and he gave great heed to what Hale thought. "I, I do not smoke Sir," he answered hesitantly.

"Well in that case do you think you could keep me company whilst I indulge?"Derek pressed, his voice as smooth as velvet.

Stiles could not think of an excuse, didn't really want to. He gave an affirmative nod. "I believe I could, Sir."

Derek allowed a flicker of a smile to grace his lips and Stiles returned his glass to the table and followed him toward the French Windows and out onto the terrace.

It was a large, stone terrace, lit by torches in elaborate holders. There was a low, lattice work wall surrounding it and a flight of wide steps led down to a path through the garden and to a maze beyond. There were already a few gentlemen on the terrace some in pairs but mostly in small groups, chatting and smoking. It was a clear night, cool but not cold and the air refreshing after the recycled air of the ballroom.

Derek lit his cigar from one of the torches as Stiles watched. For a moment his face and hair cast with a ruddy glow and throwing his profile into sharp relief and then it was gone.

Derek moved them over to a secluded corner of the terrace where they were not overheard and leaned on the wall smoking his cigar lazily. The chamber music and chatter from the ballroom was barely audible here and the night air ruffled Stiles's hair as he stood beside him. There was the light buzz of other men's conversation.

Derek leaned and smoked, moving the fat cigar in and out of his lips languidly. Thick smoke, heavy with the distinctive aroma of strong tobacco was puffed into the air. Stiles watched, more fascinated in Derek's small movements than he should have been. The man even smoked gracefully.

Several moments past and Stiles puffed out his cheeks.

"I believe we should have some conversation Mr Hale if I am to keep you company a very little would suffice." Derek glanced at him but did not speak. "You should say something about the ball perhaps and then I can remark on the number of guests and the magnificence of the occasion." Stiles prompted.

"Do you always converse by rules?" Derek asked removing the cigar from his lips and holding it lightly between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand.

"Sometimes it is best for as now, we need say as little as possible." Stiles gave a watery smile.

"Do you consult your own feelings on this matter or seek to satisfy mine?"

"Neither...Both. You do not seem disposed to conversation." Stiles cocked his head and regarded the brunette. "I wonder why you solicited my company, or did I look in need of rescue again?"

"You looked ill at ease and somewhat overwhelmed."Derek responded truthfully. 

Stiles tensed.

"But that was not why I asked you to join me."Derek added hurriedly. "I solicited your company because I _wanted_ it." 

He looked into Stiles's eyes and saw a brief look of pleasure and the flicker of surprise. "Then we needs must find a topic on which to converse." Stiles said with a touch of amusement.

"Do we need to prattle for the sake of it?" Derek retorted.

Stiles sighed tiredly. "Some conversation would pass the time."

Derek raised a challenging eyebrow. "Do you find then that time spent in my company should be ushered along as quickly as possible lest it _bores_ you?"

Stiles dropped his eyes and color cept up his cheeks. "You misunderstand my meaning Sir." He mumbled.

"Then you are perhaps of the opinion that when someone solicits your company, it predisposes that they want to converse? Derek teased.

"That has been my experience." Stiles nodded.

Derek's voice dropped to a seductive purr. "I can think of other ways to pass the time in your company." His admiring gaze drifted over Stiles, his silken voice caressed him suggestively.

Stiles's lips parted slightly, aware of Derek's masculine appeal despite his resolve to dislike him heartily.

For a moment Derek's eyes and voice held him and then reluctantly released him. "There is pleasure to be had in the company of another without saying a word. Your mere presence pleases me."Derek took a long pull on his cigar and released the smoke slowly from his barely parted lips....

Stiles watched the smoke curl into the night. His fingers twitched reflexively to take the cigar from Derek and do what? He didn't know, he was annoyed with himself. Annoyed by the fact he was attracted to another man, annoyed that it had to be _this_ man. A man he had made up his mind to hate. A proud, arrogant, villain without honour who had done great wrong to a man like Theo Raeken , whose cause he was disposed to champion. He huffed out a breath he should just turn and walk away, but he couldn't. The smoke held him, Derek held him like a fly in a web and yet the man was doing nothing but smoking a cigar....

"Balls are given for three exact purposes."Derek voice cut like a knife into the night. "The first is to display the wealth, status and generosity of the host, the second to display the wealth and status of the guests and the third is to divide off young men and women into breeding pairs. I have no interest in the latter and precious little in either of the former." He tossed the remains of his cigar from the terrace. "I attend from a sense of duty and obligation to my family and friend........Your turn." He looked expectantly at Stiles.

"That is somewhat cynical."

"But true nonetheless."

Stiles blinked. "It appears that we are both of an unsocial, taciturn disposition."

Derek spoke somewhat sourly. "I am sure this is no accurate description of your own character and therefore must conclude that it is your estimation of mine."

"You have given me little grounds to think otherwise, Sir."

"Do you your sisters and brother often walk into Mereton?" Derek changed the subject abruptly, leaning his left elbow on the wall and half turned toward Stiles.

"Yes two or three times a week. When you met us we were on our way to visit our Aunt, Mrs Martin." Stiles answered.

"Do you always accompany them?" It was pointless small talk but it allowed him to hear Stiles's voice.

"Not always, sometimes I go alone or they do. I enjoy the exercise."

"I remember you said as much when you walked to Lake House to enquire after Miss Lydia's health...I should not imagine that is your sister's purpose."

"No indeed." Stiles smiled. "They usually make a purchase." He looked up, the perfect opportunity perhaps to find out more about Mr Hale and Mr Raeken? "It is also a good way to meet up with friends or make new acquaintances..... Take the other day we had just been forming a new acquaintance when you saw us." He watched as Derek tensed and his mouth set in a grim line.

"Mr Raeken is blessed with the happy manners that enable him to make friends easily. " He pushed up from the wall with hard eyes. "If he can keep them is less certain."

Stiles raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips a little. "He appears to have been unlucky enough to lose your friendship in a way that he will suffer from the rest of his life." Stiles retorted.

They glared at each other for a moment, then a movement betrayed Sir Rafe's presence beside them. "Capital ball such superior dancing." He grinned broadly as they blinked at him. "I expect it will become a familiar venue for you Master Stiles when a happy event takes place."

Stiles looked nonplussed but Derek cast a dark glance to where Lydia and Jordan were talking.

"Come now Master Stiles," Sir Rafe smiled, "no need to be coy your mother is informing everyone of a desirable event in the near future....eh?" He elbowed Stiles lightly in the ribs.

Derek scowled at them.

Alarmed, Stiles shook his head slowly. "Sir I think...."

"Say no more," he ginned and tapped the side of his nose, "but I will be the first to add my congratulations..... "

Derek gave Sir Rafe a hard stare.....

"Oh...well I'll leave you two gentlemen to your conversation...." He wandered back inside.

Stiles saw Derek's tense face.

"You once said Sir that you never hardly forgave, that your resentment once created was implacable.... You are very careful are you not about allowing your resentment to be created?" Stiles questioned closely.

"I am."

Stiles's eyebrows knitted. " And never allow yourself blinded by prejudice?"

"I hope not. "Derek straightened a little. "May I ask to what these questions tend?" He asked with a frown.

"I hear and see such contradictions in your character that I am trying to work it out." Stiles gave a controlled smile.

"And have you any success?"Derek's eyebrow arched elegantly.

"Not at all. I hear such differing accounts of you as puzzles me greatly." Stiles confessed.

"I would ask Master Stiles that you do not persist trying to sketch my character at this present time.... I fear it would not reflect well on either of us."

"If I do not fathom it now," Stiles folded his arms, "I may never have another opportunity." 

"I would by no means prevent any pleasure of yours." Derek answered tersely, resolved to bring his feelings to heel. The boy was a lost cause after all.

Without warning Derek inclined his head and walked briskly back through the French Windows and into the ballroom. Stiles stared after him.

Well the _observer_ certainly didn't like being _observed_.

 

The rooms around the ballroom had been set out for dining. Tables were groaning under the finest china, silver and glassware. There were beautiful centre pieces made from exotic flowers and carved ice, marzipan and glace' fruits. Each table was laden down with food, wines and spirits. People were seated with others of like rank, though not too formally. Stiles sat at Jordan's invitation with himself and Lydia, Colonel and Mrs Harris among others. Mr and Mrs Stilinski and Isaac sat with Mr and Mrs Martin, Sir Rafe and Lady McCall, Scott, Mr Daehler and Lorilee. Derek sat with Mr and Mrs Blake, Kate and several titled persons. Erica and Allison sat with several of the young officers and their ladies. 

Servants went to and fro, people chatted and ate, moved around the tables and talked with friends. When he'd finished Stiles excused himself to get a glass of punch and almost walked into Kate doing the rounds of the tables and talking to guests.

"So Master Stiles I hear you are quite taken with Theo Raeken?"

"I found him an amiable sort of gentleman." Stiles gave a dismissive shrug.

"And whilst he was being _amiable_ did he happen to mention that he is _merely_ the son of the late Mr Hale's Steward?" She sniggered behind her gloved hand. "But really Stiles I feel as a friend," she placed her hand lightly on his arm ," that I must warn you against believing a word Raeken says. Raeken treated poor Mr Hale in an _infamous_ manner."

"Did he? Really?" Stiles quizzed. "How?"

Kate sighed and raised her eyes in thought. "I do not _actually_ remember the particulars." She said slowly. "But I do know Mr Hale was completely without blame." She nodded emphatically. " I regret being the one to bring to your notice your new friend's guilt, but really, " she looked around, "given his descent one could not expect much better," she sneered.

"But I have heard him accused of nothing more than the circumstances of his birth, which he told me himself." He smiled somewhat smugly.

Kate stiffened and sniffed. "I beg your pardon I am sure. " She forced a bleak, thin lipped smile. "Excuse my interference, it was kindly meant." She pushed past him.

Stiles's jaw tensed and he made his way to the punch table and helped himself to a glass and ladled in the fruity smelling punch.

Lydia had overheard the exchange and followed him. Stiles prepared her a glass and handed it to her.

"Spiteful woman!"

"Stiles!"

"I see nothing in her attack other than her own pride and ignorance of Mr Hale's true character."

Lydia crossed behind him and drew him to one side.

"Think Stiles, Mr Parrish said although he does not know the history he fears that Mr Raeken is not a respectable young man." Lydia said urgently.

Stiles sighed. "Does he _know_ Mr Raeken?"

"No," Lydia shook her head, "not at all."

"Then he only knows what Mr Hale has _told_ him." Stiles puffed out, thoroughly exasperated. "I do not doubt Mr Parrish's sincerity, it is natural he would believe his friend and does him credit. But as to the other two gentlemen my opinion remains unaltered."

Lydia looked up and her eyes opened wide with horror.

"Oh Lord! Stiles look!"

Stiles whirled around and saw Mr Daehler approaching a seated Mr Hale in a cringing subservient manner, obviously bent on engaging him in conversation.

"But he cannot! They have not been introduced!" He cringed.

"Can we stop him?" Lydia asked urgently.

"Too late."

They watched as Daehler coughed at Derek's right shoulder.

Derek ignored him.

Daehler coughed louder.

Derek ignored him.

"Mr Hale?" Daehler tried.

Derek _pointedly_ ignored him.

"Mr Hale!" Daehler said loudly.

Silence descended across the room and Stiles groaned.

Slowly Derek turned his head and gave a withering look over his right shoulder.

Daehler bowed. "Mr Hale I have made a remarkable, amazing discovery. " He grinned and Derek's eyebrow rose. "I understand Sir that you have the great good fortune to be the Nephew of _Lord Peter_ of Eichen House." He gave a nasal laugh. 

Derek's brow knitted, he glared silently, unmoving.

"I am in the happy position," Daehler continued, "to assure you that he was in the _best_ of health when I left him...." He looked upward as he calculated, "eight days ago." He bowed and smiled... A lot.

Derek remained grim faced. "I am gratified to hear it." He said coldly, scraped back his chair and stood. "And your name Sir?"

Daehler grinned. "My name is Matthew Daehler, Mr Hale." He bowed and Derek pushed by him. "And I............. Oh..." He watched Derek walk away.

Hale walked past Stiles and gave him a cold glare. "Hmmph!"

Stiles ducked his head. He hated the man for his pride, arrogance and dishonour yet he was mortified by Daehler's lack of manners toward him.

Derek lent against the wall and Kate joined him sour faced and tight lipped. Mrs Blake played a bright tune on the piano and just to make Stiles's night complete.... Erica stole Ethan's sabre and he chased her laughing and shrieking around the tables.

Stiles had never wished so much in all his life that the ground would just swallow him whole.

 

Mrs Stilinski ran through the house shrieking, skirts flapping and her lace cap askew. "Mr Stilinski! Mr Stilinski come at once Sir!"

In the library Mr Stilinski looked up from his book and scowled. A moment later Mrs Stilinski slammed in through the door clutching her chest.

"Did you not hear me Sir!? You must come at once and talk sense to Allison. Mr Daehler has been of a mind to pay her court and the wretched girl has snubbed him entirely." She flapped a lace handkerchief at him. "Now he says he is enamoured of _Lorilee McCall_ " I ask you Sir, have you heard the like?"

Mr Stilinski put his book down slowly and peered over his spectacles.

"Pray Ma'am of what are you talking? I have not the pleasure of understanding you?"

"Argh!" She stamped her foot in frustration. "Mr Stilinski!" She wailed. "Mr Daehler was taken with our Allison and was moved to court her but she slighted him, rejected his kind solicitations. Refused point blank to dance with him at the Lake House ball and so Mr Daehler was prompted to dance with Lorilee McCall and now favours her over our Allison!"

"I am astounded!" Mr Stilinski took off his spectacles and gave them a polish."I had no idea Allison was possessed of so much good sense! I have been mistaken in her character it seems." He slipped his spectacles back on, "Miss McCall you say?"

"Yes," Mrs Stilinski nodded, "you must come and make Allison pay attention to Mr Daehler or we shall all be ruined," she wailed, She flopped into a chair. "My poor nerves."

"Indeed I will not. I cannot help but wonder what Sir Rafe is about that he sanctions it. It pains me to see you so distressed my dear, but I don't really see what _I_ can do if the matter is settled."

Mrs Stilinski drummed her feet on the floor in frustration.

 

Erica and Allison sneaked out of the house, the raised voices of their parents behind them as they hurried up the drive. Scott came around the curve in the drive and they stopped to pass the time of day.

"Why Scott, what do you do here?" Allison asked.

"Hello girls, going into Mereton?" He replied with a smile.

"God yes." Erica rolled her eyes. "Anything to get out of the house."

Scott heard the raised voices and frowned. "My parents have sent me to invite Mr Daehler to spend the afternoon and take dinner with us. Is it wise to proceed do you think?" Scott asked worriedly.

"Oh yes," Allison nodded. "Mr Daehler was in a mind to court me and I ignored him completely. Now he says he's not interested and mother's furious." They giggled.

"Yes take him away, let Lorilee keep him if she's a mind." Allison prompted. "Between him and Stiles's sour looks......."

"Stiles is out of humour?" Scott asked in surprise, Stiles was seldom anything but cheerful.

"Oh yes." Allison huffed and rolled her eyes. "He says I showed the family up at the ball in front of Mr Parrish and Mr Hale. I mean, who cares?" The girls laughed and Scott sighed.

He watched Erica and Allison walk away arm in arm and giggling together. He set his shoulders, a look of determination on his face. Mr Daehler was certainly no great catch and unsuitable for a girl like Allison, but that did not mean he was unsuitable for everyone....

 

Mr Daehler stood in the hallway and pulled on his coat. Scott hovered nearby looking uncomfortable, Stiles beside him.

"Mr Daehler," Mrs Stilinski fussed, "can you not be prevailed upon to change your mind Sir? Stiles can run and fetch Allison, I am sure it is all a dreadful misunderstanding." She threw up her hands in dismay.

"Thank you Ma'am but my mind is resolved." He placed his round hat upon his head. "Cousin Allison made it clear at the ball yesterday evening that my solicitations, though genuinely and kindly meant were not well received. I am disposed to therefore to follow my heart on another course." He smiled at Scott. "Lord Peter made it quite clear that as a clergyman I was to set the example of marriage in my parish and he said, _'for my sake let her be a gentlewoman and for yours a useful, active sort of person and not too highly born'..._ Marriage I feel will greatly add to my happiness. Mindful of the mortgage I hold upon this house I sort the hand of one of my dear cousins that there might be peace and harmony between us." He pulled on his gloves. "But it was not to be." He added with a sigh.

"Oh Mr Daehler!" Mrs Stilinski wrung her hands.

"I am resigned. Tonight I shall dine with Sir Rafe and Lady McCall and dear Miss Lorilee and Master Scott, who I may soon be in the happy estate to call _brother_.

Scott shot a tight lipped Stiles an apologetic look.

"I will lodge the night with them and thence leave for the return journey to Hunsford. I will call to give my formal goodbyes." He bowed. "Until tomorrow. Good day Ma'am."

He picked up his case and swept out of the door with Scott. Stiles watched them leave and walk up the drive together, amazed at his dear friend and dismayed for Lorilee.

His Mother wailed. "Oh Mr Daehler!" She stamped her foot and made a show of crying as loudly as possible, clutching her lace handkerchief to her eyes...

 

Almost a week later Erica and Allison ran up Beacon's graveled drive and tumbled breathlessly through the front door.

"Lydia! Lydia!" Stiles! We have news!" Erica called at the top of her voice.

Lydia and Stiles appeared in the hallway looking concerned.

"We are just come from Mereton." Allison gasped.

"The town is abuzz with the news!" Erica grinned.

"What news?" Stiles's brow knitted.

"Mr Daehler has written and proposed _marriage_ to Lorilee McCall!." Erica grinned.

Lydia's eyes widened.

"And what do you think?" Erica bounced on the balls of her feet.

"She has _accepted_ him!" Allison delivered the news with a snigger.

"What?!" Stiles's jaw dropped. " _Lorilee_ engaged to Mr Daehler?" He shook his head. "I do not believe it possible!" He stated firmly. "Sir Rafe would never allow it, she is only sixteen."

"Pftt! Girls are married at fourteen these days and made mothers by Loriiee's age." Erica sniggered. "But lord, cousin Daehler!"

Stiles needed to speak to Scott.

 

Later that afternoon Stiles sat pensively on the old swing in the barn thinking melancholy thoughts about recent events. A shadow fell over him. He looked up to see Scott studying him from the doorway.

"Lydia said you would be here." He walked toward him. "Are you _very_ annoyed with me?"

"Annoyed, no........ Surprised... My God Scott, Lorilee and cousin Daehler."

Scott sighed and joined him on the swing.

"He would not be my choice for her certainly, but that is _my_ opinion. Mother and father discussed it at length and Lorilee does not seem against the match."

"She is a sixteen year old girl." Stiles protested.

"Do you not believe Mr Daehler capable of garnering her affection because he did not stir Allison's?" He asked quietly.

"No I didn't mean....." Stiles protested, huffed and turned away and then back and looked into his friend's earnest face. "If he has been so fortunate as to win Lorilee''s affections then I am _delighted_ for her."

"I see the way of it in your eyes. It was not my intention for this to happen when I introduced him. I know your family's circumstance and if Allison had been kindly disposed to Mr Daehler's solicitations he might have been the means of your family retaining Beacon, but she was not.

Our circumstances are just as dire. I will inherit my father's title and The Lodge and little else. There is no estate, no fortune. Unless I can prevail on a lady with means to marry me, it is most likely I will have to sell the house to support my mother and myself. I can offer Lorilee no dowry if she is still living at home. There is no fortune and poor prospects."

Stiles started to speak, but his grim look silenced him.

"Bluntly, she is a financial burden. Mr Daehler is sober, even tempered in steady, respectable employment and willing to marry her with no fortune. Her prospects in life will improve greatly with marrying him." Scott gave a resigned sigh. "I am not romantic as you and your sisters are, nor is Lorilee. It is a practical solution to a vexing problem." Stiles ducked his head, not trusting himself to speak. "He can give her a comfortable home and given Mr Daehler's character and situation in life, I feel assured that her chances of happiness with him are at least equal to anyone else's upon entering matrimony and better than some."

There it was then. For the sake of her brother and parents Lorilee would marry a man it was unlikely she loved and hope for the best. Stiles wanted to weep and rage that circumstances gave wealth to a man like Derek who did not deserve it and forced Lorilee into a cold marriage bed.

 

Stiles marched up and down the drawing room ranting and gesturing whilst Lydia set at her embroidery in the window.

"It was humiliating Lydia, Scott knows Lorilee is marrying a man far below her intellect and worth. " He stood in front of her. "She does not love him, I am convinced of it. She sacrifices herself for the sake of her parents and Scott and he is powerless to prevent it.." He picked up the poker and stirred the fire with quick, irritable movements.

"Stiles, you must make allowances for differences in circumstances and temper." Lydia soothed. "Our cousin Mr Daehler is not the cleverest of men but he is respectable, sober and honest. He is not vicious or unkind. And as far as fortune goes, Scott is right, 'tis a good match. She will have security and a comfortable home. Perhaps more than her parents hoped for her"

Stiles straightened with a sigh, poker in hand. "Dear Lydia, always so reasonable and wise. It _is_ a safe match, I grant you. But _you_ would never marry such a man for security and comfort."

"No I would not, but not everyone is the same and I am not Lorilee." She rested her embroidery on her knee and gave him a sympathetic look.

Stiles replaced the poker in the stand and flopped into a chair near her. He smiled slowly. "I doubt, dear Sister _you_ will have to make the choice of marrying for love or more material considerations."

"No Lydia agreed. But _you_ well might."

Stiles's smile disappeared.

A tap on the door heralded Hill's entrance with a letter. She ignored Stiles and went straight to Lydia.

"This has just come for you Miss." She handed it over with a bob and left closing the door behind her.

Stiles leaned forward his eyes alight with interest as Lydia broke the seal and opened the letter. A moment ticked by and Lydia's face fell.

Oh!"

Stiles pushed further forward.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"It is from Miss Parrish," she glanced up, "she writes that the whole party will have quitted Lake House by now bound for London. The house is to be shut up and she does not anticipate an early return to Hertfordshire."

' _My brother Jordan believed that his business in London might be concluded in a few days, but circumstances reveal that this cannot be so. I am convinced that when Jordan is once again in Town he will be in no hurry to leave. For myself I do not pretend to regret leaving anything in Hertforshire but your society._

_Mr Hale is most anxious to see his dear sster and I confess the truth that I am scarcely less eager to see her again myself. I entertain the dearest hope that soon I shall be in a position to hereafter call her _my_ own dear sweet sister. Am I wrong my dearest Lydia in indulging a hope of a blissful event which will secure the happiness and fortunes of so many?'_

Stiles paled and his jaw dropped.

"I see it now." Lydia gave a shaky sigh and folded the letter. "Miss Parrish is convinced of her brother's indifference to me and wishes most kindly to warn me of it. There can be no other opinion on the matter."

"Well, yes there can. " Stiles nodded. "Miss Parrish knows quite well Mr Parrish is in love with you and she wants him to marry elsewhere. She seeks to distance him from you. Keep him in Town and convince you he does not care about you."

Lydia sighed and shook her head. Stiles crossed to her and bobbed down beside her chair a hand on its arm. _Indeed_ Lydia." He said earnestly. "You _must_ believe me. No-one who has seen you together could doubt his affection for you."

"I cannot believe Kate seeks maliciously to mislead me." Lydia protested. "All I can hope for in this case is that she is misled herself."

"Believe her misled if you must, " Stiles agreed. "But also believe that she cannot convince a man so much in love that he loves another...." He smiled. "If Mr Parrish is not back at Lake House and has you dining with him within two weeks........ I shall be _very_ much surprised."

 

The next afternoon Stiles accompanied his two youngest Sisters into Mereton. After their exhibition at the Lake House ball he was loathe to let them go out in public unescorted. Isaac was at his scriptures and Lydia out of spirits and occupied much with thoughts of Mr Parrish. The girls wore their red cloaks and bonnets and walked ahead arm in arm laughing and giggling. Stiles followed behind.

Mereton was unusually busy. Hay carts trundled up the main street, a small flock of sheep were driven to market, a carriage drove by, a wagon laden with sacks of potatoes, riders and several smaller carts and pedestrians. The girls stopped to look at some material in a shop window and commented how hideous it was, but would suit Meredith Walker well enough and fell to giggling.

"Girls! Keep your voices down and have a care about what you say." Stiles admonished with a scowl.

Erica turned to make a clever retort but was silenced by the grim look on Stiles's face.

"Lord," she complained, "Lydia mopes about the place and you have been in a high dudgeon ever since Lake House was deserted. Anyone would think you were missing Mr Hale or some such."

"My temper would be improved if _you_ behaved in a more ladylike manner." Stiles jaw tensed.

The girls looked at one another and burst out giggling. 

Stiles rolled his eyes, half a mind to just leave them to it. He raised his head and looked across the street. He was surprised to see three figures approaching, Ethan, Aiden and Theo. Erica followed his gaze.

"Look who comes Allison, " she said excitedly elbowing her sharply, "Ethan, Aiden and Mr Raeken with them." She turned to Stiles. "I suppose you will keep Mr Raeken to yourself with your conversation, well _we_ want to speak to him too!"

"Keep your voice down." Stiles hissed.

"Miss Erica, Miss Allison," Captain Steiner greeted and the girls bobbed, "and Master Stiles." Stiles and Ethan exchanged a nod. "How fortunate, we were just discussing going to Beacon to ask after your health."

"Well now there's no need." Erica took Ethan's arm. "We are here."

Allison took Aiden's arm and the girls walked ahead. Stiles followed and Theo walked beside him.

"I was sorry to hear business kept you from the ball at Lake House." Stiles opened the conversation.

"Regrettably yes." Theo nodded and smiled and then his face straightened. "That is not strictly true, there should be no falsehoods between friends."

Stiles frowned.

"I found the nearer the date of the ball grew the less I relished the possibility of encountering Mr Hale." Theo said tightly.

"Ah." Stiles nodded. "I admire your forbearance."

"Scenes might have arisen which were not only embarrassing to myself. Mr Hale has an uncertain temper." Theo added.

Stiles could well believe it having seen the look of fury on Derek's face when he first beheld Theo Raeken in Mereton.

"Very true," Stiles nodded, "it would have been unfair to Mr Parrish and it would have pained me to see so fine a gentleman embarrassed."

"And through him your sister no doubt?"

Stiles drew a deep breath at the reminder of Lydia and Jordan's enforced estrangement. He made no answer.

"I believe I heard that your cousin, Mr Daehler is engaged?" Theo continued.

"Yes to my friend Miss McCall." Stiles nodded.

"Master Scott's sister? I thought his fancy lay in quite another direction?" Theo gestured to Allison.

"Perhaps they did." Stiles gave a wry smile."But they took a little turn to the satisfaction of all involved."

"I should imagine so." Theo smiled.

"I hope that you will be persuaded to walk back to Beacon with us and take tea." Stiles invited. "My mother would be delighted and you have yet to meet my father. I have no doubt Captain Steiner and Lieutenant Steiner will be joining us."

"Thank you," Theo smiled, "I should be delighted."


	5. Chapter 5

Theo Raeken was enthusiastically received by Mrs Stilinski, less so by Mr Stilinski. Upon the officers departure she was prompted to voice her opinion as Mr Stilinski returned to reading his newspaper in the drawing room.

"That Theo Raeken is such a charming young man. So polite and obliging is he not Sir?" She smiled and gestured.

"What?" Mr Stilinski peered over his spectacles.

"Theo Raeken, a fine young man." She repeated.

"Oh, yes, indeed he is and it was so kind of him to entertain us so eloquently with stories," he folded his newspaper, "of his misfortunes. With such narratives to hand one need hardly read novels."

Stiles tensed, it was not like his father to be so uncharitable.

"But I truly believe he has been treated abominably by Mr Hale, father." Stiles frowned.

"Well I dare say you are right Stiles, but Mr Hale may turn out no more a black hearted villain than your average wealthy man used to getting his own way." 

"Well _I_ feel very sorry for Mr Raeken and so very becoming in his regimentals. " Mrs Stilinski crossed to sit with Erica and Allison on the chaise.

"There was a time when I favoured a man in regimentals.... Still do in my heart." Her eyes twinkled and Erica sniggered. "Now Miss Erica! " She said crossly, "If Mr Raeken had five, even _three_ thousand a year he would be welcome to marry any of you. But nothing turns out as it should and now Mr Parrish of whom we had _such_ high hopes is gone forever."

"What?" Stiles gave Lydia a questioning look.

Lydia looked at him sadly. "I have heard again from Miss Parrish. It is now certain that they will not be returning to Lake House in the foreseeable future."

"I am astounded." Stiles frowned.

"It is true." Lydia added.

"Come now Lydia," her father coaxed, "next to being married a girl likes to be crossed in love from time to time. And you must take comfort in that your mother will always make the most of it."

Lydia left off her embroidery and stood and excused herself.

"There!" Mrs Stilinski snivelled once she'd left the room,"nothing works out as planned. I don't know what is to become of us! That I should live to see Lorilee McCall mistress of this house in my stead!" She huffed with a nod.

"There, there my dear you must take comfort." Mr Stilinski stood, "I may yet outlive you." He lay a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Yes," she smiled and nodded. "What!" Oh, Mr Stilinski!" She wailed as he escaped to his library.

 

Stiles went in search of Lydia and found her on the window seat of what passed for the music room by virtue of the old piano it contained. He joined her in the window overlooking the small back lawn.

"Do not look so down-hearted on my account Stiles." She gave a tired smile. "He will be forgot and we shall all be as before. But," she sighed into a smile, "I will remember him as one of the most amiable young men of my acquaintance." She glanced at him. "But that is all. I have nothing to hope or fear,nothing to reproach him with. At least I was spared that."

Stiles took her hand. "Dear Lydia, you are too good, your sweetness and disinterest are an example to us all."

"Do not tease me." She smiled.

"I do not tease you." Stiles squeezed her hand. "And I do not believe Mr Parrish forgets you." He sighed. "There are few people I really love and even fewer of whom I think really well, but Mr Parrish is one. The more I see of the world the more I am disappointed in it." He studied Lydia's bowed head. "Lydia........Aunt and Uncle Cajos come next week for their Christmas visit. What if you were to go back to Gracechurch Street with them after the holiday? They are always begging for us to go and stay with them."

"Go to London?" Lydia frowned. "But why?"

Stiles smiled wryly. "A change of scene and _society_.."

 

The following Monday and ten days before Christmas the Cajos' coach arrived late in the frosty afternoon. It was a good deal larger and more splendid than the Stilinski coach and pulled by four greys had a liveried driver and footman. 

Mr Edward Cajos was doing _very_ well in his business.

Mrs Stilinski all but ran to greet the coach followed by her daughters, Isaac, Stiles and his father. "Edward! Edward! It is so very late and we have been worried you were overturned or in a ditch!"

"Now sister do not fuss." The man who alighted was a little younger than Mr Stilinski. He was bald except at the sides and back, which were dark and without grey. He looked little like his sister being just as tall, somewhat overweight and with a round jovial face that betrayed his good nature. He kissed each of her cheeks. "How do you do Claudia?"

"Do not ask Edward I beg you! I am a martyr to my nerves, but never complain." She gestured and nodded.

"You are very good Claudia, best way to go about it." Edward smiled with a glance of sympathy at Noah. 

Mr Stilinski helped Joyce Cajos from the coach and kissed each of her cheeks. "Welcome Joyce."

She smiled. A slender, elegant woman with a quiet, thoughtful disposition, kindly nature and a timeless beauty that defied age. She was in temperament the opposite of Mrs Stilinski as was her own brother.

Claudia kissed and hugged her.

She greeted the girls with hugs and kisses. His uncle shook Isaac and Stiles's hands and his aunt had a special hug and kiss for him and Lydia, for truth be told they were her favourites. She noted Lydia's solemnity with concern and was determined to know the cause.

"My how you've all grown." Joyce laughed when she was swamped by Erica.

"Aye they have grown, in all but good sense." Noah commented dryly.

"Hurry along, hurry along." Claudia ushered them indoors. "We have little time to prepare. We are all invited to our sister Mrs Martin for a party. Left to myself I would not go, I would as soon stay at home and nurse my poor nerves."

 

"God rest ye merry gentlemen.........." Lydia sang and Meredith Walker played. 

Everyone who was anyone was at the party. It seemed _all_ the officers had turned out including Lieutenant Raeken. People talked, drank, played cards and dominoes, moved and mingled. Mrs Martin, Mrs Stilinski and Mrs Cajos conversed on the chaise and acquainted Joyce with poor Lydia's circumstances and were convinced she was blameless. Joyce was easily prevailed upon to take Lydia back with them to London after the holiday and said she could stay at Gracechurch Street as long as she liked. The conversation then moved to the artfulness of the McCall's in leading Mr Daehler astray...

Allison and Erica played cards with Ethan and Aiden and several other officers. Lydia, finished with her singing, sat a little apart and chatted occasionally with passing acquaintances.

Mr Stilinski, Sir Rafe and Mr Cajos talked with each other, other gentlemen and smoked cigars, drank spirits and grew merry.

Stiles stayed with Lorilee and Scott for Thursday was her wedding day and he wanted to spend as much time as was possible in her company. He left them briefly to say hello to Theo, himself occupied with a young lady (whom Stiles did not know), and presented him to Joyce.

"This is Mr Raeken. Mr Raeken my aunt Mrs Cajos." Stiles gestured to each in turn.

"A pleasure Ma'am." He gave a low bow.

"I understand you are from Derbyshire Sir?" She smiled.

"Why yes, do you know it Ma'am?" 

"Indeed, I spent some of the happiest days of my life at Lampton."

"Really, that is but some five miles from where I was raised on the Nemeton Estate." He stated warily.

"Nemeton!?" Joyce looked momentarily confused. "Surely that is the most handsome house and greatest estate in Derbyshire, perhaps of all England and the seat of the Hale family?"

"I see you share my view of it Ma'am. Are you acquainted at all with the family?" He probed cautiously.

"I regret not at all." Joyce revealed.

Theo relaxed. "I had the great, good fortune to be the protege of the late Mr Hale. A more noble, kind and generous gentleman never lived Ma'am." He gave a sad sigh. "I wish you had known him."

Joyce nodded in agreement.

Erica burst out giggling. "Lord how I long for a dance." She stood. "Meredith!" She crossed to the piano. "Play Grimstock!"

Meredith scowled but Lydia was pleased to be relieved of any notion of singing and quickly helped Mereith sort out the music and stood ready to turn the pages. Meredith began to play and Theo left to dance with his strange partner.

Stiles returned to Lorilee and Scott.

Joyce stood and went to get a better vantage point to study Theo dancing. There was something in his manner she did not quite like but could not put her finger on. She glanced at Lydia and sighed at her sad countenance.

Lorilee, Scott and Stiles watched the dancing from near the card tables. "When do you go to Kent?" He asked her quietly.

"We spend the wedding night at The Lodge and leave for Hunsford on Friday." Lorilee answered without enthusiasm. They turned back to the dancing. Suddenly she grasped his arm. "Scott has promised to write to me, will you also? She asked urgently. "Lydia has already done so. I fear I will not leave Kent for some time and would know all your news. I shall want to hear from you very often." There was pleading in her eyes.

Stiles covered her hand with his own. "You may rely on it."

"Scott is to come and visit in late March. Lydia cannot vouch for her plans." She looked into his eyes. "Will you come in her stead? Will you be one of the party? Indeed you would be as welcome to me as your own dear sister." She pressed her cause almost desperately.

Stiles smiled. "How can I refuse? But I will only come if you promise me a glimpse of the famous chimney piece at Eichen House!"

They all laughed, though Lorilee's was more with relief at securing his visit. "That you could scarcely avoid, even if you wished too."

Joyce joined them, looking over to where Theo danced. "Who is that girl who dances with Mr Raeken?" She queried.

"Her name is Mary King and she is here visiting her uncle in Mereton." Lorilee replied. "She's not very becoming is she? All those freckles." She wrinkled up her nose.

"I think they suit her pale complexion and red hair." Joyce informed her. 

"Looks aren't the only virtue." Stiles said kindly.

"No indeed," Scott snorted. "I expect she looks a great deal prettier to him with her ten thousand pounds inheritance." 

"That is a cynical remark Scott." Stiles wondered at his friend's uncharitable turn of phrase...

"Nevertheless that is a _definite_ virtue." Joyce added.

"Would we all had ten thousand pounds, I should certainly not be marrying Mr Daehler." Lorilee added.

They all gazed at her sympathetically...

 

January was cold. There was no snow but a thick frost covered the ground and side of the house. Frost flowers decorated the small, square panes of glass despite the fires being lit and well banked up in each room.

Mr Stilinski sat at his desk in the library and totted up the cost of Christmas. A thick shawl about his shoulders. Seventy six pounds and sixpence. It was a goodly chunk out of their thousand pounds a year income. He shook his head and helped himself to a glass of Port from a decanter on the nearby side table.

In the drawing room Mrs Stilinski, Erica, and Allison sat near the fire and worked at their embroidery and Isaac read from the large, leather bound family bible. The topic of conversation was Mr Raeken.

"Well I can scarcely believe it, to chase after Miss King all the way to Barnet for ten thousand pounds." Mrs Stilinski shook her head.

"Even Captain Steiner was shocked and remarked he did not know what Mr Raeken was thinking of." Erica looked up. "Unless he was in love and that is to be very much doubted, she's such a plain, freckled thing.... Poor Mr Raeken how he must be suffering."

"I wish someone would die and leave me ten thousand pounds, and then all the officers would be in love with me." Allison giggled.

"Did you think her pretty mamma?" Erica queried.

"Not at all! Nothing to any of you............."

Isaac rolled his eyes.

Stiles sat in the window seat of the music room and looked out at the frosty scene and thought of Lydia and Lorilee. He drew Lydia's most recent letter from his pocket, it had only arrived that very morning. Opened it and began to read......

_'My Dear Stiles,  
We continue to be quiet and comfortable here at Gracechurch Street. Our aunt and uncle Cajos continue to be most kind, generous and attentive. I want for nothing but your company to make me laugh._

_You will remember a little over two weeks ago when our aunt was in that part of Town, I called upon Miss Parrish and Mrs Blake at Governor Street. They received me kindly but were surprised to see me. Both my letters detailing my visit it seems went astray.'_

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Lydia!" He muttered in exasperation."Of course they got your letters." He read on....

_'I thought that Kate was as pleased to see me as I was her, though she did appear a little out of spirits. My visit was a short one as the ladies were going out. Miss Parrish assured me that she would call on me at Gracechurch Street within the next two days._

_I waited in every day for over two weeks and today she came._

_I am sorry to report that I was greatly deceived in her regard for me.'_

Stiles frowned.

_'She made it very evident that she received no pleasure in seeing me or in my company. When I asked after her brother, she told me that he was aware I was in London but was entirely engaged with Mr Hale and his sister._

_I must therefore conclude that Mr Parrish now no longer cares for me.'_

Stiles sighed heavily and folded the letter staring sadly out of the window...

 

Spring came and by the start of March the weather was much warmer and Stiles resumed the walks he loved. Birds sang, wild flowers were in bud, young animals populated the fields and the breeze was light as he walked back to the house. He turned into the drive and Erica ran to meet him laughing and her skirts flapping.

"Mamma says you are to hurry indoors. Ethan and Aiden are here, and can you guess who else? She giggled and twirled. _Mr Raeken!_ She announced dramatically.

Stiles frowned and followed her indoors.

 

Erica and Allison occupied the young officers pushing the swing, whilst Mr Raeken and Stiles walked around the garden.

"I hear you are soon bound for Kent?"

"Yes," Stiles gave an affirmative nod. "I go with Scott McCall to visit with his sister Lorilee, now Mrs Daehler."

Theo nodded. "I felt I could not let you go without calling to see you."

"I am glad you did, I have missed our conversations." Stiles smiled, but wondered what Theo was about.

"I feel I owe you some explanation of my actions." Theo added.

Stiles gave a casual shrug. "Your affairs are your own Sir, you owe me nothing..... At any rate I am told I must congratulate you upon your forthcoming enragement to Miss King?"

"Ah yes, Miss King." Theo drew Stiles to a halt. "No doubt you wonder at my sudden attachment."

"Not at all. I understand that which remains a mystery to my youngest sisters.......Young men require money to live and Miss King by virtue of her inheritance, has it." He smiled. It was a cynical outlook on love, but a practical one. "I sincerely wish you all the happiness in the world."

"Thank you, you are most kind. I am _fond_ of her you know?" Theo added with an incline of his head.

"I do not doubt it for a minute." Stiles replied truthfully.

"I would like to think you and I shall remain friends."

Stiles's brows rose, what a strange comment to make. "I see no bar to it Mr Raeken, none at all."

 

Mr Stilinski sat reading in his library. The door was open onto the hallway and a thump and scrape from that direction drew his attention. The servants piled two smaller traveling trunks upon Stiles's large one. Stiles appeared in his long, grey coat, a scarf about his neck. He pulled on a pair of leather gloves and looked up to see his father smiling at him. He smiled back and walked through the doorway.

Mr Stilinski put down his book and took off his spectacles.

"So your ready for the off then?"

"Yes, Sir. Our carriage will take me to The Lodge and there I will transfer to the McCall coach with Scott for the journey to Hunsford." He smiled.

His father nodded.

"No doubt you are anxious for the pleasure of visiting our cousin Mr Daehler?" There was a note of humour in his voice.

"Indeed it is a pleasure I would gladly forgo," Stiles protested,"but I promised to visit Lorilee, Scott wants my company and I am anxious to see her and know how she fares." A look of concern flickered across his face.

"What of Lord Peter? Do you not look forward to making his acquaintance? As a connoisseur of the human condition I should think you eager to be savouring such a delight." His father teased.

Stiles grinned. 

"Of some delights I believe Sir, a little goes a long way."

"Yes." Mr Stilinski nodded. "Well, spare a thought for your poor father. You will be greatly missed." 

He cleared his throat unused to displaying his feelings and very fond of his son. He stood.

"Until you or your sister Lydia return I shall not hear two sensible words spoken together in this house."

He pushed out his hand and Stiles clasped it. 

He pulled Stiles into a one armed hug. "Have a safe journey and take care of yourself my boy." His father hugged him.

After a moment Stiles was released and moved back. "Thank you Sir, I shall and shall also miss you."

"Quite," Mr Stilinski gave a brusque nod. "Be off with you now don't dawdle and keep Sir Rafe or Scott waiting."

Stiles followed his trunks to the carriage. His mother, sisters and brother crowded around and waved him off, his father watched from the library window and sighed...

 

The McCall coach was of a good size and pulled by four matching bays. It boasted a liveried driver and footman. It easily carried their trunks and Scott and Stiles. It was pleasant weather and the roads were good most of the way into Kent. They made excellent time and approached Hunsford toward the late afternoon. Scott kept up a running commentary as they approached the turn off for Hunsford. "All the land you now see on the left of us Stiles belongs to Eichen House."

" _All?_ " Stiles jaw dropped."Lord Peter must indeed be very wealthy." He smiled, there was no doubting the extreme beauty of the countryside they passed.

"He is. _Very_ wealthy." Scott confirmed with a grin. "Your cousin has been very fortunate in his patron."

Stiles wasn't so sure and glanced at Scott uncertainly. Scott cleared his throat. "Ah well in any case, I believe the Hunsford turning approaches."

Stiles leaned from the carriage window as the carriage turned.

 

From the first glimpse of The Parsonage Stiles was favourably impressed. It was indeed an impressive living. The house was two storey, long and low and covered in ivy. From the number of windows it clearly had more than the average rooms. It was blessed with a short graveled drive, square, graveled front and a very large rear garden that boasted beehives, vegetable plot, apple trees, herb garden, flowers and two occupied sty's. There was a small stable and room to house a modest carriage. Just beyond the hedge stood the stone church of good size and boasting a steeple and small peal of bells.

It was indeed very _comfortable_.

Lorilee and Mr Daehler were waiting to greet them. Mr Daehler rushed forward and made a great fuss of Scott, Stiles went straight to Lorilee and kissed both her cheeks and she hugged him. She looked well and her pleasure at seeing him and her brother was evident.

The trunks were brought in and the carriage left to return to The Lodge. They would pick Scott up in a fortnight to travel to London with Sir Rafe on business, Stiles would stay a total of four weeks.

Rooms were allotted and Stiles's was small and comfortable with a nice view to the front of The Parsonage. After briefly discussing the functional and suitability of the staircase, it being neither too steep nor to shallow; Mr Daehler was prevailed upon to show Scott the garden. 

Stiles went on a tour of the house with Lorilee.

He followed her into the parlour which was of good size and possessed a widow which overlooked the garden. The wooden floor was covered by a large rug. There was a chaise and a couple of high backed chairs, round tables with ornate lamps or candlesticks, a table and four chairs, a moderately sized fireplace, a writing desk, paintings on the walls and a couple of figurines on the mantle and a wooden clock and sideboard. Thick curtains were tied back at the window, she led Stiles to it and they watched Mr Daehler and Scott inspect the garden.

Lorilee put a hand on the window. "It is a large garden and I encourage Mr Daehler to tend it himself. The beehives and the pigs were my idea." She glanced sideways at Stiles.

"It is beautiful and must take time in tending?" Stiles commented.

Lorilee nodded."He spends a _great part_ of each day in it."

"It is beneficial exercise."

"Yes indeed," Lorilee agreed. "Then he has to walk to Eichen House _everyday."_

"Everyday? So often?" Stiles frowned.

"Perhaps not, but I confess I encourage him in that also." She gave him another glance.

"Walking is beneficial exercise." Stiles nodded.

"And _when_ he is in the house I encourage him to be in his book room. It has a window that overlooks the road and he can see if Lord Peter's carriage happens to pass. I have convinced him it would be a slight to miss the event." This time she smiled at him. 

"And you prefer to sit in this parlour?" Stiles's eyebrows rose.

"Oh yes..... With so much to occupy him, most days we are barely in each other's company more than five or ten minutes." Her smile broadened.

"But Lorilee," he took her hand, "are you happy?"

She looked thoughtful."I find I can bare the solitude very cheerfully. The walks through the woods and grounds are beautiful, a woman comes in to help with the cleaning and washing. There is one maid, Ruby who is young, pleasant and willing. The house and my circumstances are comfortable. Mr Daehler makes no demands on me and is good natured. I do miss my friends and family, but.........." She paused. "I am.......... _content."_.

 

Two days later Stiles sat reading in his room. He heard Mr Daehler shouting urgently for Lorilee and Scott's quick feet storming up the stairs.

"Stiles! Stiles you must come! " He started to rise as his door was flung inwards. "Make haste!" Scott shouted excitedly. "There is _such_ a sight to be seen. Mr Daehler bids us make haste to the parlour!"

Scott pounded ahead of him down the stairs and he rushed after him. He dashed into the parlour and was pulled to a halt as Scott ducked back behind the curtain. "Look!" He demanded excitedly.

Stiles looked. A very grand Landau with its top down and pulled by two matching blacks was drawn up in the lane by the garden gate. It had a liveried driver and two footmen. It contained an older man and a young woman.

"My God Scott, I expected at least that the pigs were loose in the garden." He huffed. "That's only Lord Peter and his daughter."

"No," Scott shook his head, "that's not Lord Peter, that's Lady Malia and her tutor Mr Finstock."

Stiles looked again. Lady Malia was pretty, skin pale and like porcelain, her hair, what he could see beneath her bonnet, dark. Her lips full and very red. She was slender and although Mr Daehler and Lorilee spoke to her, she ignored them with a disdanful expression and it was Mr Finstock who answered. There was a distant, proud, aloof and cross look about her as though she seldom smiled.

Stiles thought she and Derek well matched, but it was not a thought pleased him.

"Lady Malia is very beautiful." Scott sighed. "So slender and pale."

"She looks proud, aloof and cross. She will no doubt suit him well enough."

"Who Stiles?" Scott frowned...

 

The next evening was the first occasion upon which they were to dine at Eichen House. Stiles was nervous but determined not to be overawed. They walked up the long, _very long,_ straight drive between manicured lawns, neatly trimmed hedges and bushes and geometrical flowerbeds. Not a blade of grass nor leaf was out of place. Each side of the drive was lined with tasteful statues.

Stiles walked one side of his cousin and Lorilee, Scott the other. As they drew near the house, Mr Daehler excitement grew and Stiles's stomach knotted itself. 

"There are a total of thirteen gardeners and six under gardeners." Mr Daehler motioned with his cane.

The house itself was large and imposing. There were two tall storey's above ground and the servants quarters and kitchens below. It was both long and tall with buttresses at each end. It boasted eight chimneys and a stable block to the rear and carriage house as well as more extensive gardens, out building and separate, brick built conservatory...

"Mark the windows, there are sixty four in all, _sixty four_! I am told the original glazing alone cost in excess of............ _six hundred pounds!"_ Mr Daehler enthused.

Stiles fiddled nervously with his cravat. "That is a _lot_ of windows." He muttered, glad he didn't have to clean them.

"Do not dear cousin, concern yourself with your apparel." Mr Daehler condescended. "Lord Peter is very far from requiring of ourselves the same elegance of dress which becomes himself and his daughter." He gave a nasal snigger.

Stiles scowled slightly, he was wearing his best clothes.

"He will think nonetheless of you for being _simply_ dressed, he likes to have the distinction of rank preserved." Mr Daehler grinned.

"Thank you cousin, my mind is greatly eased." Stiles replied with a thin smile.

 

Lord Peter was nothing like Stiles imagined in looks. He was slender with dark hair, agreeable features, twinkling blue eyes, sharp and assessing and an unfashionable goatee and moustache which nevertheless suited him. He was shorter than he was by two or three inches and as near as Stiles cared to guess, around his father's age. Stiles supposed Lady Malia to be nineteen or twenty. She had a strange manner about her and apt to make sudden, bizarre statements and aggressive moves, otherwise she appeared cold, haughty and an arrogant . So much so that he easily compared her to Derek and concluded it to be a fault of character within the family.

Dinner was a lavish, formal affair conducted in the smallest dining room and in silence. Only Lord Peter spoke and required the occasional affirmative response from Mr Daehler, which he was all eagerness to give. Mrs Finstock fussed over Lady Malia a great deal but that lady ate very little and made not a sound nor seemed aware there were others present.

The arrangement suited Stiles well enough and he thought he might get through the entire ordeal without saying a word, but it was not to be........

Dinner concluded, they withdrew en masse to the smallest parlour. It was furnished comfortably enough but was not _lavish_. Stiles quickly presumed that it was kept entirely for entertaining the _lower class_ , such as themselves. Here Lord Peter _held court_ for he was a man fond of his own voice, opinions and advice. He was unafraid of expressing himself in a direct and forceful manner. 

Lady Malia and Mr Finstock occupied one end of a long, green and gold, striped chaise. Lorilee and Mr Daehler the other end and nearest Lord Peter. Stiles and Scott occupied a slightly shorter, gold chaise some distance from, but facing his Lordship. The great gentleman himself occupied a deep, high backed and winged, green leather chair pulled close to the fire, which was lit despite the warm weather. 

From this position Stiles observed Lady Malia.

She spoke very little and only to Mr Finstock who fussed over her constantly. Lady Malia fussed over an exquisite porcelain doll that had been brought to her. The doll was dressed exactly as her owner. Her movements were quick and her head bobbed and turned, most like a bird. She stared directly at Stiles a time or two and seemed about to speak, but then changed her mind and went back to her doll.

Lord Peter's voice droned on...

"An Apothecary will serve your needs well enough Mrs Daehler. I shall be very cross if I hear it is anyone but Mr Wilson. "

Lorilee bobbed her head. "Be assured Lord Peter that I would not dream of using anyone else."

"No indeed, not at all." Mr Daehler gave an ingratiating grin.

He turned his head and fixed Stiles with a narrow-eyed stare. "Mr Daehler, your cousin appears a very quiet and well-mannered sort of young person."

Stiles wondered at it, not being used to being talked about in his presence in such a manner.

"Indeed he is your Lordship." Mr Daehler answered in agreement, nodding and smiling.

"I understand you hold the mortgage on his father's estate?" he probed.

"Indeed I do Sir and I am most mindful of the fact tha............."

"Do you have brothers and sisters, Master Stilinski?" he continued ignoring Mr Daehler.

"I do Sir, one older and two younger sisters and a younger brother." Stiles answered.

" _Three_ sisters and a younger brother?" There was a delicate arching of a disapproving eyebrow. He drew his eyes over him, assessing Stiles critically. "Your youngest sister must be _very_ young?"

"She is just fifteen." He answered briefly.

"And the age of your eldest sister?"

"Nineteen, almost twenty Sir."

He frowned. "But surely that must make you..........?"

"I am recently eighteen, Sir." Stiles completed for him.

"Eighteen!" A brief look of disapproval crossed his face. "Did your mother have you all but a year apart?"

"Yes Sir," Stiles nodded, "she did not want many years between us so that we would grow and remain close together."

His eyebrows rose. "Peculiar sort of logic." He give a snort of disapproval. "Are any of them out?"

"All of them Sir."

"All!?" His Lordship looked aghast. "Surely you jest?"

"No Sir." Stiles glanced at Lorilee wondering what he'd said.

"The youngest girl is out before the eldest is married?" He lent forward as if better to ascertain the truth. "At fifteen!?"

"Yes Sir." Stiles looked about for support. "I think it must be very hard on younger sisters if they have to wait until the elder is married before they are allowed to go into society... Though I admit Erica is full young to be about." He nodded. If he had his way she'd be locked away until she was thirty!

Mr Daehler paled at Stiles's presumption.

Lord Peter drew a deep breath and further narrowed his eyes. "You give your opinions most decidedly for such and _young_ person." He turned away."Mrs Daehler did I tell you Lady Metcalf called upon me yesterday to thank me for sending her Miss Pope. "

Lorilee smiled. "I'm sure she's most...."

"Yes, yes.... " Lord Peter continued and turned back to Stiles and narrowed his eyes at him with a cold stare.

"Have your sisters any accomplishments?" 

Stiles frowned. "Accomplishments Sir?" 

"Yes," he gave an exasperated sigh, "do they sing, play a musical instrument, paint, embroider screens, speak foreign languages, read and so on.... _accomplishments_." He explained tiredly.

"They all embroider and play the piano to a larger or lesser degree. Except Erica, she was ill disposed to learn and Lydia is the most proficient. Lydia also speaks French and they can all read." He answered quickly.

Lord Peter tutted.

"And what accomplishments have you?"

Stiles's brow furrowed. "Sir?"

"Do you ride, shoot, box, fence, dance, paint, speak, languages, compose poetry and so on?" He reeled off with an irascibly patient tone.

"I ride......."

"Ah, with which Hunt?" Lord Peter cut him off.

"I do not ride to hounds Sir."

His Lordship recoiled. "Not to hounds?" His eyebrows rose. "How very singular. Is your seat not competent enough eh?" Then carried on without a pause for a reply. "I have found such things to improve with practice, my own seat is impeccable." He announced to the room in general.

There was muttered general agreement and Stiles stifled a snigger.

"Your point is well made Sir, but I believe I ride well enough." Stiles stated, there was a stunned silence. "I see no point to chasing a creature for miles with a pack of forty hounds which is little bigger than a Badger."

Mr Daehler almost choked, Lorilee groaned, Scott's eyes widened and Lord Peter gave a sharp intake of breath and narrowed his eyes dangerously. "What of shooting?"

"Foxes?" Stiles was genuinely confused.

"Birds," Peter growled, "deer, hare and so on."

"I shoot, but do not care for the sport. I neither box nor fence. I can paint but poorly, speak French, read and dance, though it is for others to judge if I do so well. I play the piano very ill, swim and most enjoy walking."

"Did I hear correctly, _you_ play the piano forte did you say?" Lord Peter asked with incredulous curiously.

"Yes Sir. A little and very ill."

His eyebrows rose. "A very unusual sort of accomplishment for a man."

"I believe it is Sir." Stiles replied politely.

Her Lordship grunted. "I maintain yours is a _very_ singular family."

Stiles made no reply, but rather agreed.

It was at this point Lady Malia spoke for the only time he was at Eichen House. She fixed her gaze upon him.

"He is yours and you are his. You are his dark kitten pretty and soft. He will make you purr for him." Stiles's eyebrows rose. "He will pet you and give you cream, but sheath your sharp claws in velvet paws little kitten, else he grows cross and take scissors and cuts them all away." She gave a mysterious smile.

There was a stunned silence. Stiles blinked and opened his mouth to say he did not have the pleasure of understanding her, but everyone started to talk at once...

All the way home his cousin impressed upon him what a very great honour Lady Malia had bestowed by speaking to him..Stiles just wished he understood what she had said.

 

They walked along the lane in the early afternoon sunshine. Lorilee walked with Stiles and Scott dawdled behind.

Stiles sighed. "I believe I could get as used to these woods and lanes as you have Lorilee. It is very beautiful here."

"Stiles, Stiles!" He turned as Scott ran up to him and thread his arm through his. "We have been here three weeks and have already dined _six_ times at Eichen House. I would _never_ have expected to be so welcomed, I can hardly believe it."

Stiles glanced at Lorilee. "Hmmmm, I would not have expected it myself." He said dryly.

Scott darted ahead.

"I believe you are his Lordship's favourite." Lorilee teased Stiles.

"Favourite!" Stiles snorted. "Then I must indeed be doing something wrong."

Lorilee shook her head. "He is used to everyone agreeing with him. I believe he finds you a challenge, even if not always a pleasant one."

They both laughed.

"Lorilee my love, brother, cousin!" Mr Daehler called and ran toward them, red faced and waving his hat aloft. "Hurry! Hurry!" He gasped for breath. "Mr Hale is come to Eichen House and brought with him his cousin Colonel Deucalion the Son of the Earl of Matlock and the gentlemen," he gestured, "vouchsafe us the greatest honour of calling upon us at The Parsonage."

"When!?" Lorilee asked urgently.

"Now, now my dear, their horses are upon my heels as I speak. Make haste, make haste!" He turned without reply and ran in the direction in which he came, Scott, Lorilee and Stiles on his heels.

Scott turned to Stiles. "This is your doing. Mr Hale would not be in such haste to pay his respects to Lorilee."

"You are mistaken for I am sure he dislikes me even as I dislike him."

"Make haste! Make haste!" They heard Mr Daehler calling and hurried toward The Parsonage.

 

Colonel Deucalion was perhaps twelve or fourteen years older than Derek and not like him in either looks nor character. He was shorter and although slender, of athletic build. His tawny hair curled into his collar and he had long sideburns and expressive eyes. He had a firm, open face with laughter lines that betrayed his good humour and easy nature. He was talkative and friendly with the proud bearing and firm shoulders of a military man.

Stiles liked him immediately as Derek's opposite.

The truth was despite the difference in ages, the cousins were close. Colonel Deucalion knew and did his best to understand Derek's attraction to others of his own sex, but did not share it. He shared with Derek guardianship of Cora and this had brought the two men close. He frequently enjoyed teasing his cousin for his awkwardness in society and he had listened at length to stories Derek told of his time in Hertfordshire. Whether it was suggested by Derek or of his own volition he sort Stiles out and engaged him in conversation.

Derek sat alone on the chaise, Lorilee and Mr Daehler occupied chairs facing him and Scott occupied a stool. Stiles sat at the round table and Colonel Deucalion sat opposite.

"I am delighted to meet you at last Master Stilinski," he smiled.

"At last Sir?" Stiles frowned.

"I have heard a great deal about you from my cousin and none of it seems, exaggerated."

"Stiles glanced to where Derek sat looking at him steadily from the chaise and ignoring attempts to draw him into conversation.

"I am all astounded," he smiled. "Mr Hale is my greatest critic."

"Indeed?" Deucalion's brow furrowed. "I hope we shall see you often at Eichen House whilst we are there. I am exceedingly fond of lively conversation."

"And this you do not get from your cousin or find at Eichen House?" Stiles asked with a quizzical smile.

"It is true that my uncle talks a great deal," he smiled slowly, "but is seldom in need of an answer. Lady Malia is of an almost silent disposition and when she _does_ venture to speak she most often does so in riddles." He gave a worried frown. "And Derek there," he nodded toward Mr Hale "speaks hardly at all when in Kent, although I believe him lively enough in other places." He sighed and Stiles glanced at Derek who was still studying him. "Nobody _plays_ , nobody _sings_ or plays _cards_ and I always loose at billiards to my cousin there. One cannot hunt or shoot at night so the evenings are dull and frankly, tiresome."

Stiles smiled at him sympathetically.

"I believe my uncle mentioned that _you_ play the piano forte?" There was a mischievous glint to the Colonel's eyes.

Stiles's eyes widened. "Oh no Sir," he shook his head. "That is I _do_ , a little and _very_ ill." He gave a nervous laugh.

Deucalion leaned back a smile playing about his mouth. "We shall see, we shall see."

"Please Sir, I really play abominably," Stiles protested.

"I am sure you are too modest and _any_ respite will be profoundly welcomed I assure you."

Stiles began to feel a little uncomfortable under Derek's intense scrutiny. He lent forward.

"Can you tell me Sir, why it is Mr Hale studies me so closely?"

The Colonel's smile broadened and he glanced at his cousin.

"Can you not guess the cause?" He asked with gentle amusement.

Stiles frowned. "Does something offend him?"

"Offend?!" Deucalion chuckled. "Mercy no."

Abruptly Derek stood and silence fell as he crossed the room in two strides and stood before Stiles at the table.The Colonel glanced between his cousin and Stiles with interest. Derek's face was concentrated as he spoke to Stiles.

"I hope your family is in good health?" His face softened into a slight smile.

"I thank you Sir, they are." He returned the half smile.

There was silence.

Deucalion sat back and enjoyed his cousin's awkwardness with a kind, amused expression.

"My sister Lydia has been in London these three months." Stiles broke the silence, "I wonder Sir, have you not happened to see her?" It was a pointed question.

Derek's shoulder's dropped and he tensed. All friendliness disappeared from his countenance.

"No." He answered bluntly. "I have regrettably not had that pleasure." He added in a tight voice.

Deucalion frowned and twisted in his seat as Derek turned and walked to the window and stood looking out, hands behind his back. He turned back to Stiles still with a questioning frown.

Stiles sighed. "As you see Colonel, your cousin and I are not the best of friends."

"I am frankly astonished to hear it."

"There is no mystery, I always believe in first impressions and Mr Hale told me once that his good opinion once lost, is lost forever." He shook his head.

Derek tensed visibly and turned to look at him with a scowl.

"So you see Sir, it is a hopeless case, is it not?" Stiles and Deucalion shared a sad smile.

Derek turned back to the window.

 

The next day Stiles walked alone through the park and woodland that formed the furthest reaches of Eichen House's extensive grounds. It was a beautiful, warm day with the birds singing and the breeze sighing through the trees. There was the distant hum of bees and he glimpsed the spotted coat of fallow deer moving at a distance through the trees. He stopped and looked up. Executed a three hundred and sixty degree turn admiring the arching branches over his head heavy with green leaves like the vaulted ceiling of some great, natural cathedral. He lowered his head and almost cried out in surprise.

At some point Derek had ridden silently from the trees and sat watching him from the back of his tall, black hunter. He was dressed for riding, but wore no hat. Stiles felt an inexplicable thrill of excitement and shock lent him boldness and he gazed back. The horse snorted and Derek kicked his feet from the stirrups and Stiles held his breath as it looked like he was about to dismount. 

Derek held the front of his saddle with his left hand and shifted his weight as if about to swing down and then.... hesitated. He looked at Stiles an internal struggle evident in his eyes and tense jaw. He settled back into the saddle, put his feet back in the stirrups and gathered up the reins. He gave one, curt nod to Stiles and then without a word wheeled his horse away and trotted on along the path.

Stiles took a breath, his heart pounded in a mixture of relief and grievous disappointment...

 

The next time they dined at Eichen House it was different, made so by the presence of Derek and Deucalion. They were almost overlooked by Lord Peter as he held Court for his relatives. Malia was as silent as ever and Stiles observed her and Derek together. Considering she was his future bride they may as well have been in different rooms. After dinner they were ushered into a much larger and lavish drawing room. Mr Daehler was beside himself with gratitude for the condescension bestowed upon him by his kind patron and proved himself to be the most accomplished sycophant Stiles was ever to witness.

Once again Stiles fell to studying Lady Malia, this time her interaction or lack thereof with Mr Hale. They took not the least notice of one another, made no attempt to communicate nor catch the other's attention. No looks passed between them. They were as aloof, distant and disdainful toward each other as toward everyone else. Deucalion was the only one expanded effort in trying to engage Malia's attention. He talked to her, giving up at the lack of reply. He sort Stiles's company and solicited him to play something. Stiles resisted that gentleman's entreaties almost to the point of rudeness, but at last was prevailed upon. Deucalion promised to stay with him and not to laugh, whatever the provocation.

A door was opened from the drawing room to a small music room adjoining. It contained a magnificent piano, a harpsichord and harp. Stiles was taken through by Deucalion. Lord Peter waited impatiently and Derek watched him keenly from a high backed chair, Mr Daehler smiled a lot and Lorilee and Scott smiled encouragingly. Lady Malia continued in a world of her own making with Mr Finstock in attendance.

Stiles sat at the piano and Colonel Deucalion drew up a stool very close and together they sorted through the extensive collection of sheet music. Prompted by Lord Peter's order to ' _hurry along_ ' Stiles chose a piece he knew quite well and began to play.

The Colonel encouraged him with smiles and nods and turned the music for him. He played hesitantly and with little artistic interpretation and skill but he wasn't awful. When his ordeal ended Lord Peter spoke from the drawing room.

"You can never hope to play well Master Stilinski unless you _practice_ more."

Anyone observing might have been surprised to notice the glare Mr Hale gave his uncle.

"If it takes your fancy you may come to Eichen House as frequently as you wish and practice at the piano forte in Mr Finstock's room. You will be in nobody's way there." His Lordship added with a condescending tone.

"Thank you Sir." Stiles gave a watery smile.

"There are few people in England..."

Derek had, had enough and stood and walked toward the music room. 

"Who have the _true_ understanding,"Lord Peter continued, "appreciation and love of music that I do," he smiled and gestured."Or indeed better taste....Had I learned an instrument I would have been a _great_ proficient."

Everyone save Malia nodded in agreement. Mr Daehler quite vigorously.

Colonel Deucalion picked out another easy piece and Stiles began to play as Derek walked in and leaned on the piano. The Colonel glanced at his cousin and then Stiles and sat back with a wry smile to observe them.

Stiles looked up through his lashes. 

"Do you come to intimidate me Mr Hale by coming in to hear me?"

Derek's lips twitched.

"I will not be alarmed, my courage will rise and at any rate the good Colonel will protect me." He gave a soft, nervous laugh.

Deucalion saw the way of it and chuckled. "Pray leave me out of your little dance."

Stiles glanced at him curiously.

Derek's face softened and he gazed at Stiles but answered his cousin. "Our dance will be done soon enough....One way or another.... In the meantime," he spoke to Stiles, "you take delight in professing opinions which are not your own."

Stiles's frown deepened. "Why Colonel I do believe your cousin encourages you not to believe a word I say, that is ungenerous of him is it not?"

"Indeed it is Derek."Deucalion chuckled.

"Unwise too for I might retaliate and say something of his behaviour in Hertfordshire which may prove shocking to his relations." Stiles smiled mysteriously.

To Stiles's surprise Derek gave a slow, genuine smile and looked at him challengingly. "The floor is yours Master Stiles, I am not afraid of you." He said with an arched brow.

Deucalion looked between them and leaned forward eagerly.

"What on earth have you to charge him with? I should dearly like to know how he behaves among strangers." He chuckled.

"I am sorry to report Sir, that when I first saw your cousin was at a ball where he danced not at all."

Deucalion chuckled.

"This was despite, " Stiles continued, "his being much in demand and a shortage of men and many ladies were in want of a partner." Stiles smiled.

Derek looked amused and adjusted his cuffs.

"I am sorry to pain you Colonel, but so it was." Stiles continued playing with a mischievous smile.

"The scoundrel, alas I can well believe it of him."Deucalion nodded.

" I fear I am ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers." Derek smiled.

Stiles looked thoughtful and turned to Deucalion. 

"Shall we ask him ?" Deucalion nodded. "Why a man of sense and education, who has lived in the world, should not feel qualified to recommend himself to strangers?" Stiles cocked his head to one side.

Derek looked at him seriously.

"I, I...." He hesitated. "have not that happy _talent_ which some possess of conversing easily with strangers."

Of all answers this one the least Stiles expected. He thought for a moment. "I do not play this instrument nearly as well as I would like. But I do not blame the instrument, rather myself for not practicing enough." Stiles answered.

To his surprise Derek smiled broadly. "I stand admonished." He tipped his head. "You are perfectly correct." His eyes held Stiles's. "You have employed your time much better and anyone hearing you play could not find anything wanting." He studied Stiles's face with his enigmatic gaze for an extra beat. "We neither of us perform well for strangers." His voice low and smooth.

Stiles's heart raced and his playing faltered, his lips parted slightly and his breathing deepened. Deucalion smiled as Derek held Stiles in his gaze,

"What are you talking of?" Lord Peter demanded in a loud voice.

Stiles stifled a laugh as Derek rolled his eyes and looked exasperated.

"What do you converse with Master Stilinski?" He patted the arm of his chair irritably. "I will have my share of the conversation...."

 

Mid morning Stiles sat at the writing desk in the parlour of Hunsford parsonage and wrote to Lydia....

' _Lady Malia is a pale, strange, dark haired creature, pretty and slender with the quick, nervous movements of a wild creature. She speaks little and in riddles and scowls a great deal. As far as I am aware she is without accomplishments or talents and despite a series of governesses and her present tutor Mr Finstock, seems lacking in education and social skills. I believe this to be the cause for her absence from society._

_She made no attempt to engage in any way with Mr Hale nor he with her and treated him with the same silence and distance as the rest of us. And he treated her with the same contemptuous indifference with which he treats everyone._

_I can hardly believe that she is destined to be his bride and think it will be a peculiar match. But Lord Peter gives every indication of his determination to have him for his Son-In-Law and he is not a man to be gainsaid.'_

 

Distantly the doorbell jangled. He raised his head as Ruby went to answer and on hearing voices quickly put his letter to one side, covered it with a clean sheet of paper and stood. He straightened his stock. Ruby pushed open the door and had barely time to announce him when Mr Hale appeared behind her. She stepped aside and he entered.

Stiles's first thought when he recovered from the surprise that he was there at all, was how handsome he looked. Indeed Derek had taken more pains than usual with his appearance. His black hair was neatly combed. He wore a dark green, tailed riding coat over a green and gold striped waistcoat, his breeches were pale and he wore black riding boots to the knee, His collar was stiff and high, his stock white silk and held in place with a gold, horse head pin. He wore no hat. Stiles blinked at Derek owlishly.

Whatever else he was, Derek was a handsome man.

Derek gazed at Stiles, he looked delightfully rumpled. His shaggy, dark hair fell into his eyes, his stock was less than neatly tied. He wore no coat, he had not thought to pull it on. His shirt was white and high collared. His waistcoat was a light, woollen tan, his pantlons were dark and he wore light indoor shoes. Derek fingers itched to straighten his stock and brush his hair from his eyes.

"My cousin is gone on church matters, Mrs Daehler and her brother are out walking so I am afraid I am alone this morning." Stiles explained.

"I would not intrude upon your solitude." Derek bowed.

"Oh, you do not I was just writing to Lydia." Stiles quickly answered.

They gazed at each other, neither speaking. At last Stiles sat in the chair by a round table, Derek continued to gaze at him with slightly parted lips and his chest rose and fell deeply.

They both looked around the room and then Derek strode to the window and looked at the garden.

"It is a pleasant garden, I see you have beehives?" He observed casually.

Hurriedly Stiles jumped up and stood beside him.

"Yes Sir, you are interested in bees? I believe them to be industrious creatures."

Derek looked at him. "Really? " He gazed into Stiles eyes and then recovered himself with a brief shake of the head. "No, not at all."

"Oh." 

Their hands brushed sending a warming touch shimmering through them and time seemed suspended. Stiles ducked his head, confused and annoyed at the feelings a mere touch caused. Derek drew back and sat at the round table across from Stiles's chair.

Stiles resumed his seat and an awkward silence descended.

"Mr Parrish and his sisters were well when you left London?" Stiles queried.

"Yes, thank you. Very well. " Derek answered stiffly.

Stiles sighed. "I believe Mr Parish has little thought for ever returning to Lake House?" He prodded.

"It is highly unlikely he will be there much in the future." Derek gave an idle gesture with his hand.

"It would be better for the district perhaps that he give up the house entirely rather than leave it unoccupied for long periods." There was a hard edge to Stiles's voice.

"I believe he may give it up as soon as any eligible purchase offers ." Derek's tone was reasonable and measured.

Stiles drew a deep breath and they both looked around the room.

"This is a comfortable house." Derek stated.

"Yes Sir, most comfortable." Stiles agreed.

"I believe my uncle did a great deal to the house when Mr Daehler first arrived in Hunsford?"

"I believe he did and could not have bestowed his kindness on a more grateful recipient." He smiled and Derek chuckled.

"Mr Daehler appears very fortunate in his choice of wife." Derek nodded.

"Yes indeed he is." Stiles gave an affirmative nod. "Though seen in a prudential light, it is a good match for her as well."

"It must suit her well to be settled in so easy a distance of her family?" Derek smiled and gestured.

"You call _fifty_ miles an _easy_ distance, Sir?" Stiles looked incredulous.

"What is fifty miles of good roads? " He drew his shoulders into a shrug. "I call that a very easy distance." He studied his hands.

"Near and far are relative terms..." Stiles looked thoughtful. "It is I suppose possible to be too near one's relatives perhaps."

"Precisely," Derek agreed,"I would hope you would not always want to be too near yours?" He smiled.

Stiles blinked in confusion, why would he wish to be far removed from his family?. Lady Malia was not the only one to speak in riddles it seemed.

Suddenly Derek stood. "I will trespass on your time no longer." He gave a shallow bow. "Please convey my regards to Mrs Daehler and her brother."

Stiles made to stand.

"No please," Derek held up his hand. "I will get the girl to show me out. Good day Master Stiles."

Stiles's jaw dropped as Derek turned and hurried from the room. What on earth was _that_ all about?....


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles spent much of the remainder of the day and a good portion of the night puzzling over Mr Hale's strange visit. He could not really find any logical reason for it and Scott was at much of a loss as he was. It annoyed him that the man was so easily able to capture his mind and attention. Even though he was quite determined to dislike, even hate the brunette he found him attractive and exciting on a visceral level. He began to wonder if it was possible to _like_ someone against your will? Perhaps he was sensing some deeply hidden goodness in Mr Hale which was certainly not apparent in his demeanour, character or dealings with others...............

The next morning he completed his letter to Lydia and in the late morning left The Parsonage to walk the two miles or so into the small village and deliver it into the hands of the mail. He took lunch at the local public house and then walked slowly back to The Parsonage.

He detoured through Eichen House's magnificent parkland. It was another glorious day and he walked slowly and stopped to watch a herd of Fallow Deer pass by at a distance. He was so lost in the afternoon and observing the deer that he did not hear Colonel Deucalion calling his name until he was quite close.

"Master Stiles! Master Stiles, wait up!"

Stiles turned to see the grinning Colonel walking toward him briskly. He was dressed smartly for walking, carried both cane and gloves and doffed his tall hat. 

"I thought it was you." He stood beside Stiles smiling. "Were you walking to the house?"

"Good afternoon Colonel." Stiles smiled widely, he liked the friendly and good natured officer. "No, not at all. I walked into the village and came back this way, I was lost in thought watching the deer."

"Ah," Deucalion nodded. "I too am looking at the deer, that is to say carrying out my yearly inspection of the herds. Ascertaining their numbers, health and so on for my uncle. Will I intrude upon your solitude if I accompany you for a while?"

"Not at all," Stiles answered genuinely pleased, "I should welcome your company."

Deucalion fell into walking slowly beside him.

"The park and countryside around Eichen House is so beautiful." Stiles remarked.

"Indeed it is, very beautiful. But not a match for Derek's Nemeton," the Colonel nodded, "there _is_ a magnificent house and estate. Some of the most beautiful countryside and grounds in the country, not in titled hands at any rate. Certainly in Derbyshire." He added with conviction. He glanced at Stiles. "No doubt you will see it one day soon."

Stiles looked taken aback. "I doubt it Sir, I have no call to go to Derbyshire."

"Nonsense, I am sure Derek will take you for a visit." 

He caught Stiles's puzzled frown.

"As you have seen Colonel your cousin and I are not exactly _friends_." Stiles reminded him.

"No," he sighed, "not exactly _friends._ " He let his remark lie....

"Do you know Mr Parrish and his sisters?" Stiles asked casually.

"Mr Parrish?" Deucalion repeated. "I do, though not as well or intimately as Derek. He and Mr Parrish met at Cambridge I believe and have remained this time firm friends. He gives the appearance of an honourable, good natured and easygoing fellow with a kind heart."

Stiles nodded.

"Derek complains that he is easily put upon and endeavours to look out for him."

"Yes," Stiles gave a soft laugh, "Mr Hale is uncommonly kind to Mr Parrish and takes prodigious care of him." There was a slight edge of bitterness in his tone, but Deucalion did not hear it.

Deucalion sighed and nodded. "I believe Derek _does_ take care of him." He paused a moment. "He congratulates himself that he recently prevented Parrish from making a most imprudent match."

Stiles's step faltered."Really? On what grounds?" He tried to keep his voice neutral.

"I believe there were many objections to the lady's rank, family, connections and so on.." Deucalion said innocently.

Stiles grew quietly distraught.

"Her family would have gained hugely from the match. Parrish would have gained nothing." The Colonel continued.

"But perhaps secured his future happiness and that of the lady?" Stiles answered sharply with a slight tremor.

Deucalion looked at him worriedly and drew to a halt. "Do you think Derek was officious to interfere then?"

"I, I do not know the circumstances Sir." Stiles lied. "But it seems very cavalier of him to assume he knew better than the persons involved, what was in their hearts..."

"I know my cousin he would not have interfered without believing he had just concerns." Deucalion reasoned.

Stiles had no wish to argue with such a good man as Deucalion. "Forgive me Sir, we do not know the particulars of the matter. Perhaps your cousin was right and there was not much affection in the case?"

"Perhaps...."

Stiles looked into the Colonel's face, none of this was his fault, it was Derek's. Single-handedly he had destroyed all hope Lydia had of future happiness. 

Hateful, arrogant and presumptuous man! 

Tears stung behind his eyes and the colour drained from his face, he looked about confused and upset.

The Colonel saw his distress and mistook the cause. "My God, are you taken unwell Stiles?" He asked anxiously, taking hold of his elbow his face etched with concern.

"I, I ate at the public house and the food it seems does not sit well with me." He lied hesitantly.

Deucalion gripped his elbow tighter.

"I know a short cut to The Parsonage. Allow me to escort you there." Deucalion said kindly.

Stiles nodded and allowed the Colonel to see him safely home.

 

An hour after reaching home Stiles sat in the chair in the parlour and watched as Scott helped Mr Daehler and Lorilee on with their coats.

"Are you sure you do not wish me to remain with you Stiles? " She asked kindly. "I am sure Lord Peter would understand given the circumstances."

"My dear, I am sure there is no cause." Mr Daehler interjected. "cousin Stiles already looks much improved and his Lordship is expecting us to dine. Ruby is well capable of watching over Cousin Stiles until our return." He gave Stiles a tight smile.

"You go ahead, I am much improved." Stiles nodded."I will sit quietly and read."

"Yes indeed and be not alarmed cousin that his Lordship will be annoyed at your absence. When he hears the circumstances he will understand completely and attach no blame to yourself. Such is his charitable, Christian spirit." Daehler nodded and smiled.

"Please give him my apologies." Stiles asked with a smile..

"My dear, the time!" Lorilee prompted.

"Great heavens Mrs Daehler why did you not tell me?"

Stiles watched as the three of them were seen out by Ruby.

He dismissed Ruby and collected Lydia's letters from his room, settled back on the chaise in the drawing room and read them. 

How did he explain to Lydia that it was Derek had advised Mr Parrish to leave Lake House? That it was not Mr Parrish's indifference at all? That it was that man's view of her family as unsuitable had made their love impossible? Did he even tell her or did he let her think Mr Parrish's lack of affection was the cause? Which was the less cruel?

He actually sympathised with Derek's view of his family to an extent. Certainly Erica and Allison were giddy, held themselves open to ridicule and brought the family into disrepute . Erica was a loud and blatant flirt and where she went Allison followed. To a sensible man like Mr Parrish she was undoubtedly a source of embarrassment and possible ridicule. 

Then there was his mother. Small minded, loud and with no social tact. She constantly cast abroad the family's business, had no thought as to who she spoke or offended, worried only about getting the girls married with no thought to their future happiness. Allison and Mr Daehler? He shuddered. 

Isaac was allowed to wallow in his books and pious nature. To read without understanding, to believe he was more accomplished than he was and to sit in judgement on others. Thus he was open to ridicule and disappointment.

And his father was not blameless. A good, kindly but passive man who lived day to day. He put aside no money for his children's future, despite the knowledge that they might well be homeless on his death. He took no part in raising the children and did not check their or his wife's behaviour. Most often when trouble loomed he sought sanctuary in his books.

And then Lydia, the best of them. Sweet, quiet, intelligent. The model of what a young lady should be. Good natured and prepared to think only the best of people. How she had turned out as she had was astounding.

What of himself? He wasn't perfect, he would be the first to admit that. He tried to emulate Lydia's good nature but knew he was inclined to be stubborn and judge people too quickly on first acquaintance. He had a sharp tongue at times and perhaps it was best left to others to be his judge.....

He pondered on this and Mr Hale's role in it until his head spun. In the end he had to admit he could see that from his point of few it might have appeared he _was_ saving Mr Parrish from a disastrous match. But he took no account of their feelings for one another, or the future happiness that they might enjoy together. He had by his actions dashed Lydia's hope of happiness and that he would find _very_ hard to forgive. And then there was his treatment of Mr Raeken, for that there was not the slightest excuse and must be put down to Mr Hale's pride, arrogance and selfish nature. 

There his mind was settled on the matter, sort of....

Distantly the doorbell jangled. Stiles scowled, he felt very far from up to receiving visitors, but needs must. He just had time to put his letter to one side and stand when Ruby opened the door and without waiting to be introduced Mr Hale stepped nimbly around her.

"Mr Hale!" Stiles recoiled slightly in surprise. The gentleman looked unsettled, _agitated._ Ruby closed the door behind her as she left.

" Deucalion disclosed you were taken unwell." His eyes swept over Stiles and took in his pale, unhappy appearance. "Do you require a physician? I'll have one sent for....." He gestured.

Stiles frowned slightly at Derek's sudden concern for his welfare.

"No, thank you Mr Hale. It was a temporary affliction and I am much improved. Thank you for your concern." He added, being as pleasant as he could mange.

Derek gave a curt nod. " I am glad to hear it." He stood looking around and fiddling with the gloves and black cane he held in his hand.

Stiles sat on the edge of the chaise and waited for Derek to take a seat, he didn't. His fidgeting and stare was unnerving him.

"Sir, will you not sit down?" Stiles gestured to the chair opposite.

"Thank you. Derek sat and within seconds was on his feet again and leaned on the mantle his back to Stiles.

The gentleman was obviously agitated, wrestling with some inner turmoil and Stiles thought it prudent not to comment on his behaviour but watched warily.

Mr Hale suddenly turned, paced down the length of the room and then back. Stood in front of Stiles, opened his mouth to speak and then hesitated, turned and paced again.

Stiles sighed, Mr Hale's behaviour was unsettling _him_.

Derek stood before him again and seemed to compose himself, looking at Stiles with a savage intensity.

"Since I first beheld you," he began, "I have made it my business to study you." Stiles made to speak and Derek hurried on. "Not unkindly and I hope unobtrusively. My purpose is not idle curiosity," he shook his head, "rather it is a matter of growing importance to me."

Stiles eyebrows rose.

" My subsequent acquaintance with you has led me to believe and hope, " he added, "that like _myself,_ " he took a deep breath, "you find a marked attraction in certain members of your own sex over those of the opposite sex. If I am in error, " he forged on, "then I offer my sincere apologies and will leave at once and speak no more of the matter."

Stiles's jaw moved but he didn't speak.

"I have to know do you see? I ask only a yes or no reply, honestly given. I swear upon my honour as a gentleman that neither answer will ever leave this room." Derek held his breath.

Stiles looked at him, it was on the tip of his tongue to say it was none of Derek's business and that to swear on his honour cut no ice with him, but he didn't. He didn't for two reasons. He looked into Derek's eyes and saw that this was no casual question, hope burned there and a ferocious intensity. And secondly, although he had every right to be angry, to deny such a slander and to protest at its making, Derek had admitted to feeling that way himself. He had consciously or unconsciously entrusted him with information that could very easily be used to ruin his reputation. Stiles felt the heat rise up his face and he hesitated in his reply.

"A simple yes or no will suffice. " Derek coaxed.

"Sir, I...I."

"Yes or no, honestly given." Derek encouraged gently.

Stiles sighed, closed his eyes to compose himself and opened them again. Lyng did not come easily to him and was most often done to spare the feelings of others.

The air vibrated with tension.

"Yes Sir." His voice trembled as he spoke. "Some men, a very few." He confessed.

Derek breathed deeply as relief washed over him and tension ebbed away from his body. It never entered his mind that he might _not_ be one of them.

Derek turned away and sat opposite, He studied Stiles for some moments and despite himself each time their gaze met, Stiles stomach fluttered in response. Abruptly Derek stood and put his gloves and cane on the table with such force that Stiles flinched.

In two strides Mr Hale towered over him. "It simply will not do!"

Stiles blinked up at him.

"I pride myself on being a rational, level-headed man. I do _not_ let irrational feelings overrule my good sense." Stiles opened his mouth to agree...........but Derek continued. "This," he gestured at Stiles, "is pure folly." 

Stiles frowned. 

" _You_ have robbed me of rational thought," he accused.

Stiles opened his mouth to protest that he hadn't and if he had he didn't intend it.

"But there it is." Derek shrugged, chest heaving. His gaze softened on Stiles. "I have struggled and believe me _I have struggled_ " he nodded, "to rid myself of these thoughts and feelings, but all in vain. The more I struggle against them the more my feelings grow."

Stiles brow furrowed deeply with confusion.

"My feelings can no longer be repressed in this matter. You will allow me to express how much I have come to ardently admire and love you."

Stiles was stunned, his lips parted and his eyes widened in astonishment.

Seeing Stiles was not disposed to make an early reply Derek continued. "In declaring myself I am fully aware I will be going expressly against the wishes of my family, my friends and I might add my own better judgement." He put his hands behind his back. "Further I run the risk of social censure, but happily anticipate it will be of short duration."

Stiles's mouth closed into a straight, tight line.

"The relative situation of our families is such that any alliance must be regarded as highly reprehensible."

Stiles's gaze hardened.

Derek drew a deep breath."Indeed as a rational man I cannot but see it as such myself." He continued with a shrug. He sighed deeply. "But it cannot be helped." He paused. "Almost from the earliest moments I saw you I have come to feel for you a deep, abiding _passionate_ love, admiration and regard which despite all my struggles has overcome every rational objection. I beg you to end my torment and consent to become my Companion."

For a moment Stiles felt light headed and he struggled to breathe. _'Consent to become my Companion'_................ Was he deluded? He had just admitted he had feelings for him against his better judgement and even will. That his family was entirely unsuitable and that he took a great social risk by even contemplating making him his Companion. And he expected him to agree? Stiles was astounded by Derek's arrogance and presumption, but refused to allow himself to be uncivil.

He spoke slowly pushing out the words. "I am very mindful Sir of the great _honour_ you bestow upon me by expressing your regard for me and asking me to consent to be your Companion."

Derek's mouth curled into and unconscious smile.

"It has never been my wish and it is not now to inflict pain on anybody and if I have, it was most unconsciously done." His eyes flicked to Derek's face. "I have never knowingly sought your good opinion of me," Derek stopped smiling, "and by your own admission you bestow it _most_ reluctantly. You claim to love me against society's wishes, your family, your reason and even your own better judgement and will. I pray you Sir cease your struggles and know that your feelings are not returned."

For a moment Derek was stunned. He had been prepared to walk away, at least temporarily if Stiles had said he was not physically attracted to men. He could be very persuasive when the need arose and he was confident he would in time, win the boy over. He had thought that he might have to more ardently persuade Stiles, he believed it was often the case when a Companion was sought, but this?............. To be rejected without a by or leave... With no explanation other than he had told the truth of the circumstances, he had not fawned nor flattered. That was not his way.

For several moments he was bewildered, confused. If he had heard him right, Stiles had rejected him flatly. He stared, his mouth opened and closed. He was struck dumb.

Stiles looked up at him through lowered lashes uncertain of what to expect.

Suddenly Derek took a deep breath and turned away, strode to the mantle and leaned on it, his back to him. He half turned toward Stiles, opened his mouth as if to speak and then turned away again before turning back and gazing at him with a confused look in his eyes.

"And this, " he gestured, "is the only reply I am to receive?" He paused.

Stiles didn't answer.

"I might ask what I have done to deserve so little civility and explanation?"

Stiles raised his head. "If I have been _uncivil_ Sir, it might be because you insulted me and my family in the manner of your declaration." There was a sharp tone to his reply.

Derek snorted. "Do you expect me to find pleasure in the manner of your family? I regret that your pride is bruised by an honest opinion and confession of the scruples which long prevented me from forming any serious design on you. Had I concealed my struggles and flattered you....." His voice rose steadily and his eyes held Stiles still. "But disguise of every kind is my abhorrence. Nor will I be made to feel ashamed of my feelings, they were natural and just." Stiles stood and walked to the window, his hands balled into fists. "Do you expect me to rejoice in an alliance with a family whose station in life is so decidedly beneath my own?" Derek finished, by now shouting.

Stiles whipped around, face angry and eyes hard and glittering. "You insufferable, pompous man!" He retaliated.

Derek tensed. "Have a care Sir." He warned.

"Your ungentlemanly behaviour, arrogance and pride are the least of the crimes I could lay at your door!" He pressed on. 

Derek's mouth was pulled into a tight line. "Pray do not hold back!" He gestured. "Reveal what _crimes_ you would lay at my door."

Stiles hesitated, but only for a moment. "You had been in Hertfordshire but a fortnight Sir, and you had impressed on everyone your arrogance, pride and selfish disdain for others. I had but met you and I was convinced you were the last man I could ever call _friend_ let alone develop any great feeling for." He drew a deep breath, chest rising and falling. "Yet this pales into insignificance". He took a step forward. "Can you deny that you have been the means of ruining the future happiness of a most beloved sister?"

Derek's brow furrowed.

"Can you deny that it was on your advice and probable insistence Mr Parrish was encouraged to leave Lake House and give up all association with Lydia?"

Derek rolled his eyes and huffed. He moved toward the mantle and stood in front of it, one foot raised up on the edge of the hearth. "Deny it? " He looked perplexed. "Why should I wish to deny it? I congratulate myself that I saved Mr Parrish from making a total fool of himself."

Stiles jaw dropped.

"The match was totally unsuitable in every particular. To have joined forever your family with his, a travesty. It would have been a complete disaster for them both. I did everything I could to separate my friend from your sister and would do so again." He rattled off with conviction.

Stiles recoiled. "And what gave _you_ the right to sit in judgement?" He demanded.

"Concern for my friend and a level head." Derek answered bluntly. "Indeed by separating them I was perhaps kinder to him than toward myself."

Stiles shook his head in disbelief at his arrogance. "This is bad enough but it is not the only crime upon which I base my opinions. Even before your cruelty toward my sister I formed an unfavourable opinion of you when I heard of your dealings with Mr Raeken. Can you offer a defence on _that_ subject?"

A look of fury crossed Derek's face and he pushed off the mantle and reached Stiles in two strides. They stood toe to toe. Derek clenched his jaw and the muscle twitched in his cheek. Stiles recoiled a little under his savage glare. "You take a deal too much _interest_ in that man's affairs. " He pushed suddenly into Stiles's space and Stiles stepped back. "Has he laid a finger on you?" He questioned sharply.

"What?" Stiles reared back in confusion.

"Do you _like_ him? is that the truth of it?!"

Stiles shook his head. "Who could not hear his story and help but take and interest in him? He is friendly and personable."

"Personable!" Derek spat out and wheeled away pacing in annoyance. "He has the happy gift of a tongue which wins him friends, that is certain enough!"

"He has had the misfortune to suffer at _your_ hands." Stiles accused hotly.

"Misfortune!" Derek gave a barking laugh. "Misfortune indeed!" He paced.

"You have reduced him to his present state and yet you treat his misfortunes with contempt and ridicule." Stiles pressed.

Derek stopped pacing and gazed at him.

His voice dropped. "And this......." He made a vague gesture. "This is what you _really_ think of me?" He frowned. "If true, my crimes by your estimation are grave indeed."

Stiles glared at him. "The manner of your offer merely served to make it easier to refuse you. I am spared any regret I might have felt in causing you pain had you behaved in a more gentlemanly manner. There is no possible way that you could have made it that would have tempted me to look favourably upon it."

"You have said quite enough Sir." Derek sucked in a deep breath. "I perfectly comprehend your feelings." He looked away. "And now only have to be ashamed of what my own have been." He said tightly.

He gathered up this cane and gloves. 

"Please accept my best wishes for your future health and happiness and that of your family." He made a stiff, formal bow, opened the door and exited the room closing it behind him.

For long moments Stiles stood rooted to the spot then he wrapped his arms around himself and whooped in a breath. His body shook and even though he knew that he had spoken the truth, he felt as if his heart was breaking.

Derek exited through the front door and strode away from The Parsonage. He was on foot which was just as well as it allowed him some time to walk off his anger, frustration and disappointment. He was furious with himself for not having schooled his feelings better and allowing himself to fall in love with such an unsuitable boy. How _dare_ he turn him down? And for what? Hurt pride and belief of the false accusations of the ne'r-do-well Raeken. So what if he was proud? His was a proud family name and as for the sister it was as clear as the nose on his face that she didn't care for Parrish half as much as he cared for her. He snorted and swiped at the grass irritably with his cane as he walked. The more he thought about it the more annoyed he became. Stiles was being entirely stubborn, which if he admitted the truth was one of the things he loved about him. The rest was the fault of Raeken dripping honeyed falsehoods and lies into his ear and poisoning Stiles's mind against him. Well on that score at least he resolved to put the matter to rights. Stiles would know the truth and the devil be damned! And then he would throw himself into forgetting him.

With a grim countenance and firm stride he headed for Eichen House'.

Stiles watched through the window as Derek strode away. Horrible, arrogant, proud, insufferable man! Tears stung behind his eyes. Why when he resolved to hate him, when he was damned by his own words did he feel as though his heart would break at the thought of never seeing him again? He had every justification and reason in the world to hate him...............But he could not. He wheeled away from the window and began to pace the width of the room. He flung his arms around himself and drew in deep, shuddering breaths. He would not cry, he would not. There was nothing to cry for, he had not known how Derek felt before and therefore he had lost nothing. He was free of the man who had ruined Lydia's happiness and destroyed Theo's life, he was well rid of him. Why then did he feel watching him stride away he took with him every chance of future happiness? He would harden his heart, forget him and be himself once more. 

Derek continued his walk to the house with Stiles's words ringing in his ears. ......

_'The manner of your offer merely served to make it easier to refuse you. I am spared any regret I might have felt in causing you pain had you behaved in a more gentlemanly manner. There is no possible way that you could have made it that would have tempted me to look favourably upon it.'_

 

_'Even before your cruelty toward my sister I formed an unfavourable opinion of you when I heard of your dealings with Mr Raeken. Can you offer a defence on _that_ subject?'_

He halted on the steps leading to Eichen House's great front door.

"Oh yes Stiles, in that at least I may be acquitted of any crime." He muttered ominously under his breath.

He continued up the sweeping, wide, stone steps and let himself through the door. He crossed the marble floor to the staircase.

"Whose there?" Lord Peter's voice drifted from a distant room."Go and see Deucalion."

Deucalion appeared in the hallway with his usual pleasant smile. "Derek! I wondered where you'd dashed off to, we've quite despaired of you."

"Deucalion, is that my nephew?" Peter asked.

Deucalion rolled his eyes and then a look of concern crossed his face as he took in Derek's grim, somewhat agitated appearance.

"Derek! Where have you been? Come in here at once and explain yourself!" Peter demanded.

Deucalion took a step toward him.

"Are you all right?"

"No!............. "Derek gave a wan smile. "That is yes, forgive me. Your pardon, " he started up the stairs.

Deucalion looked after him with a frown. "Are you unwell? Do you require a physician?"

Derek huffed. "I am well, but I have a pressing matter of business that must be completed. Please give my apologies to my uncle." He forced a smile."Please old chap."

Deucalion smiled and nodded. "Consider it done." He watched as Derek hurried upstairs still concerned about his behaviour. With a shake of his head he wandered back to join Lord Peter.

Once in his chambers Derek saw to ridding himself of his cane, gloves and coat he sat at his writing desk. He took out several pieces of paper and took a pen in hand. He pondered a moment and then dipped the pen into the crystal inkwell and began to write.....

_'To Master Stiles Stilinski,  
Be not alarmed Sir that this letter contains any repetition of those sentiments or renewal of offers which were this evening so disgusting to you. But I must be allowed to defend myself against the crimes you lay at my door. In particular those relating to Mr Raekenr, which if true would indeed be most dishonourable. The accusations are wholly untrue and I can only refute them by laying before you his entire connection with my family._

_Theo Raeken is the son of my late father's Steward, a worthy gentleman who had the overseeing of our estates and was much esteemed by my father. Mr father was Theo's godfather and we were of an age. As children we played together and he was schooled for a time with me. I thought of him much as a brother._

_When Theo lost is father early he was taken into the bosom of my family and treated as a second son. My father thought much of him and supported him financially and emotionally. Theo had always expressed a wish to take up the church as a career and in this endeavour had my father's entire support._

_Our family have always been patrons of a lucrative living close to Nemeton which comprises of a large, comfortable house and small estate next to the church. It was arranged that when the living fell vacant and upon being ordained, Raeken would inherit the living and was so stipulated in my father's Will._

_As we grew older, we grew closer and between the ages of seventeen and eighteen he came to mean more to me than just a brother. My father continued to support his education and he attended Cambridge with me. He had not been there but three months when his true nature became apparent to me. His habits were as dissolute as his manners were engaging. I severed my personal attachment to him but saw no reason to reveal his true character to my father._

_I lost my own excellent father five years ago and to the end he had no cause to think anything but well of Theo._

_Shortly thereafter the living fell vacant and in accordance with my father's wishes was offered to Mr Raeken, even though it was against my better judgement. He made it clear to me he had no intention of entering the church, indeed never did have. He asked for and was given five thousand pounds in lieu of the living. He expressed a desire to study law, I wished rather than believed it true._

_I have no knowledge of how he lived or what he did. But have reports that his life was one of idleness and dissipation. Within eighteen months he wrote to me and demanded the sum of a *thousand pounds, which I refused. It was followed over the period of about a year by further demands for differing amounts of money. I refused them all._

_I did not hear from him further. But last Summer our paths crossed again under the most painful circumstances, that I would wish to forget._

_My beloved sister Cora is some thirteen years my junior and was left to the guardianship of Colonel Deucalion and myself. She was taken ill at school with Pneumonia, subsequently by the Grace of God she made a full recovery. The doctor recommend a period of convalescence by the sea. We were furnished with the name of an excellent lady, Mrs Young. She came with the highest recommendations and references and Cora was delivered into her care at Ramsgate for the period of one month. Deucalion and I were most unhappily deceived as to that lady's true character._

_Unknown to me Raeken followed my sister to Ramsgate, no doubt by prior design. There he convinced my sister of his love for her and he and Mrs Young convinced her she also loved him. She was but fiftteen years old. Knowing I would oppose the match she was prevailed upon to elope with him to Gretna Green. It so happened that a day before the planned elopement I visited Ramsgate and discovered him there._

_Unable to deceive a brother she thought of almost as a father, my sister revealed everything to me. I leave you to imagine how I felt and acted. Raeken fled for his life and my sister and I returned to Nemeton. His design was undoubtedly Cora's hundred thousand pound fortune, half of which she inherits at sixteen and revenge upon myself. Had he succeeded his revenge would have been such that my family and myself may never have recovered. I have not seen nor heard of him since until I saw him with you in Mereton._

_This is a faithful and true account of all my dealings with Theo Raeken and can be attested to by Colonel Deucalion on every particular. I do not know what falsehoods Raeken told you, but hope you can acquit me of cruelty toward him._

_The other charge is that without regard for the sentiments of either party I detached Mr Parrish from your sister. I do not deny this and stand by those sentiments I expressed to you and action taken. However your family circumstances might have been set aside were it not for two particulars. The wanton and frequent impropriety of your mother, younger sisters and the tolerance of your father toward the behaviour of his wife and younger daughters and the indifference displayed by your sister toward Mr Parrish._

_I had not long been in Hertfordshire when I saw Parrish admired your sister, but it was not until the Lake House ball that I realised a serious intent. His partiality was clear enough. Although your sister welcomed his attentions, gave smiles and soft looks the serenity of her countenance and the absence of any indication which ladies give of partiality, led me to believe she suffered his attentions with good humour. That her heart would not be easily touched. I did not think her indifferent because I wished it, but rather on the evidence presented to me and I deemed the match to be impossible._

_My friend left Lake House for London on business the next day. While in London I took upon myself the office of pointing out the impossible nature of taking your sister as a future bride. It was not difficult to convince him of your sister's indifference to him. On this particular I attach no blame to myself._

_There is only one point which I feel does not reflect well on me. That I concealed your sister being in London from Mr Parrish. Perhaps this concealment was beneath me. It is done however and was done for the best. On this subject I have nothing more to say and no further apology to offer._

_With sincere good wishes for your future health and happiness,_

_Derek Hale.'_

 

It was morning by the time Derek jerked awake having fallen asleep at the desk. He read through the letter, sealed it with the dark red sealing wax and used his signet ring to imprint in it the Hale crest. He snuffed out the candle using his thumb and forefinger and then leaned against the window frame and look out over Eichen House parkland and woods.He filled the porcelain white and blue bowl from the matching jug on the vanity unit and splashed cold water on his face and swiped it dry with a towel. He felt exhausted and yet it wasn't sleep he wanted. Perhaps he would feel better once the letter was delivered into the boy's hand? Of course there was no guarantee he would accept it and even if he did that he would read and believe it. He gave no thought to having a servant deliver it, he would do so himself and he had an idea how to do it. He changed his clothes quickly and went down to breakfast.

Stiles spent a restless night, hardly sleeping at all. The way he had addressed Mr Hale kept running through his mind. He was right, he _knew_ he was. Derek was everything he had said and he didn't think he had been uncivil, except for calling him _insufferable_ , which he was. His reason told him he was right and he could _never_ be a friend let alone Companion to a man who had been the means of hurting Lydia and ruining poor Theo. Why was he even wasting a moment's thought thinking on it? Why did he feel so miserable and upset? He looked out of his small window, it promised to be a fine day. He could hear the others moving about downstairs and no doubt getting ready to eat breakfast. He didn't feel hungry, his head ached and he felt listless. He looked in the mirror and the face that stared back was pale and drawn. Still he had to make an effort and he had to decide what, if anything he told Lydia.

Stiles was late to *breakfast and by the time he arrived in the dining room they were all seated. Tea and chocolate were available, toast, pound cake, plum cake, ham, hot rolls and muffins with butter. Mr Daehler 's mouth was stuffed so full that he couldn't speak, only grunt. Lorilee poured a cup of tea and Scott munched warm rolls with butter.

Scott looked up and immediately a look of concern crossed his face. "My goodness Stiles you look quite pale and drawn. Are you unwell?"

They all turned and looked at him.

"I am quite well thank you." Stiles gave a tired smile. 

Daehler grunted and pushed more ham into his already crowded mouth.

"Let me pour you some tea" Lorilee pulled an empty cup and saucer to her.

"No, please." Stiles stopped her with a gesture.. "I don't want anything. It's such a lovely morning and the woods are so beautiful around Eichen HouseI thought I'd take a walk." He tried harder to smile. "Blow the cobwebs away."

Scott looked uncertain. "Are you sure everything is well?" He queried with a furrowed brow.

Stiles nodded. "I want to make the most of what time remains."

Scott sighed, he knew if Stiles didn't want to divulge a thing, he wouldn't. "Well if you are sure?" Stiles nodded. "Have a good walk." He smiled.

"Thank you I am sure I shall." Stiles replied.

 

Stiles was right, it was a beautiful day. The sun was warm and skylarks soared into the air and sang. Bees hummed as they collected pollen from the wild flowers, doves, pigeons and cuckoos sounded along with a myriad of other song birds. He lifted his face to the sun as he walked and allowed it to warm his face. He felt better and his spirits improved simply from being out-of-doors. He walked toward the edge of the woods and fallow deer and their young moved through the trees the sunlight dappled on their coats. He almost felt _happy_ ,

The trees were thin and big at the edge of the wood. Huge oaks perhaps hundreds of years old climbed up to the sun, their trunks too thick for Stiles to get his arms around. He threaded his way through them looking up at the sky through a leafy canopy and shafts of sunlight played across the ground in front of him. He rounded the thick trunk of one tree and beyond was a small clearing in the trees, lit brightly by sunlight and in its center a figure. A man stood with his back to him.

Derek.

Stiles halted immediately a mixture of excitement and fear making him catch his breath. The turned to hurry away, but Derek heard him and caught his movement and strode purposefully after him.

"Master Stiles." His voice was firm, impersonal.

Stiles halted and turned.

"Mr Hale." His voice came out thinner than he intended. 

Derek's face was firm and impassive but Stiles thought he looked tired around the eyes and somewhat strained.

Derek stopped just within arms length of Stiles. It wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to take him in his arms and kiss him here amongst the trees, but he knew such a move would be improper, imprudent and unlikely to be well received. He settled for gazing at him for a moment. He was pale and looked tired.

Stiles held his gaze and then his eyes fell.

"I have been walking the woods for some time hoping you would come. I remember how much you enjoy walking and you said this way was a favourite." Derek's voice was softer but without inflection.

"Yes," Stiles fought to keep the tremor from his voice, "I do and it is." He replied briefly.

Derek reached out his hand with the letter.

"You will please do me the honour of receiving and reading this letter?"

Hesitantly Stiles reached out and took the letter from Derek's hand, Their fingers brushed and Stiles felt a jolt to his heart and a sigh passed through Derek. 

Derek dropped his hand and bowed stiffly.

"Good day to you Master Stiles." He turned on his heel and strode away across the parkland leaving Stiles in the trees gazing after him.

Stiles looked at the letter in his hand and studied the seal and then looked around for a place to sit and read. There was a stump, probably left from a felled tree. He made his way to it and sat down. The sun filtered over his shoulder and he opened the letter and began to read...

The first paragraph reassured him and yet dashed his spirits, it was now a certainty that Derek would forget him, probably never see him again. Stiles squared his shoulders. No matter, he would do the same.

He read on. Theo's accusations untrue? Stiles frowned. He could hardly believe it. He was so he was so open, friendly and well mannered.

Much of the narrative was as he expected, and what Theo had told him himself. But it seemed his attachment to the family a great deal deeper than he had supposed, surely that made Derek's actions all the more abominable? He did not have the understanding of one sentence...

'As we grew older, we grew closer and between the ages of seventeen and eighteen he came to mean more to me than just a brother.' 

How could he have meant more to Derek than a brother? He continued to read and his frown deepened.

_'His habits were as dissolute as his manners were engaging'._

 

Could that possibly be true? He imagined Derek capable of many things but to lie so blatantly about a man's character when it could be so easily looked into, hardly seemed likely. 

His lips parted as he read.

Mr Hale _had_ offered Theo the living and he had turned it down? Stiles could hardly believe it, he looked up from the letter his mind racing. Had Raeken lied and sought to deceive them all? To what end? Had he thought merely to evoke sympathy and ingratiate himself in their society? If the letter was to be believed Derek had given Theo a very large sum in lieu of the living and Raeken had spent it within two years and demanded more? 

"I'd have turned him down too." He muttered in agreement as he read.

Any doubts he had over the narrative disappeared when he read of Theo's dealings with Miss Hale. Stiles was shocked, he was scandalized. The man was a blaggard, a scoundrel, disgusting, a villain and rogue. He sought to ruin the reputation of an innocent young woman like Miss Hale and she only the same age as Erica! If he had triumphed he would have lain claim to her fortune and her family name in the most infamous manner. Mr Hale would have been ruined! He could not believe Mr Hale would never have divulged this information concerning his beloved sister unless it were true and Colonel Deucalion was beyond reproach.

How he had been so mistaken in the man?! He had allowed friendliness, good manners and a glib tongue to influence him. Taken the rogue's word above a gentleman a hundred times his superior. His society was to be discouraged totally. Stiles began to see the truth of it. Running after Miss King for her money. Poor young lady! 

Oh God! Stiles looked skyward, _what_ he had said to Mr Hale, what he had accused him of? Whatever must he now think of him? On this matter it was absolutely clear Mr Hale was without the slightest blame and he would apologise when they next met...........If they ever did.

He sat for a time on the tree stump and tried to put straight his racing thoughts. The afternoon wore on and he decided to read the rest of the letter as he walked back to The Parsonage............

 

'The other charge is that without regard for the sentiments of either party I detached Mr Parrish from your sister. I do not deny this and stand by those sentiments I expressed to you and action taken.' 

Stiles caught his breath as he walked, he thought at least Derek might admit that he could have expressed himself better, even if he believed he had done nothing wrong.

_'The wanton and frequent impropriety of your mother, younger sisters and the tolerance of your father toward the behaviour of his wife and younger daughters.'_

Stiles sighed. Try as he might he had to agree with some of the sentiments expressed. However the last sentence caused anger and frustration to rise up.

_'And the indifference displayed by your sister toward Mr Parrish. '_

Indifference?! Indifference, was he mad? Anyone who knew Lydia could see how ardently she admired Mr Parrish and that her heart was his almost from the beginning.

"You idiot! " He muttered aloud in exasperation. "Lydia is possessed of a shy and reserved disposition. She would no more show her feelings in public than she would dance naked! She barely displays her innermost thoughts and feelings to her own family, to _me_!" He huffed aloud. "Presumptuous, stupid man! Why didn't you _ask_ me for an opinion?"

Even as he vented his frustration something came back to him, something Scott had said at the ball....

_'She needs to leave him in no doubt of her heart if she is to secure him. She needs to exaggerate her feelings, show _more_ affection than she even feels.'_

Could it be? Was that the truth? That to people who were not intimately acquainted with her, Lydia could appear indifferent? That Derek had honestly mistaken her shy demeanour for a lack of feelings for his friend? Even so it was an insufferable presumption on his part to engineer their separation. He might have warned Parrish, voiced is concerns, but to part them........ He was resolved to continue to be cross on this account and think ill of Mr Hale, though perhaps not as much as he had done...

He continued to The Parsonage and as he approached Scott came out to meet him. "Where have you been? " He queried. "You have missed entirely the gentlemen come to call." 

"Gentlemen?" Stiles frowned.

"Colonel Deucalion and Mr Hale."

Stiles caught his arm lightly. "Mr Hale came here?" He asked urgently.

"Yes, they came to take their leave. They are to vacate Eichen House immediately and travel abroad on business." He explained. "But you missed them. Mr Hale left almost immediately he heard you were not here. But the Colonel waited for you for almost _half_ an hour...." He sighed. 

"I dare say we shall be able to bear the depravation." Stiles answered a little tersely.

"Oh,"Scott's brow furrowed as Stiles pushed into the house. Why was he so cross?

Stiles went directly to his room and read the last paragraph again.....

_'There is only one point which I feel does not reflect well on me. That I concealed your sister being in London from Mr Parrish. Perhaps this concealment was beneath me. It is done however and was done for the best. On this subject I have nothing more to say and no further apology to offer.'_

 

"Reflect unwell indeed!" Stiles spoke to the empty room. "How can you be so indifferent to the harm you have done and lives you have ruined?!" Tears stung his eyes.

One of those lives might well be his own.

 

A short while later he heard his cousin shouting. "My love! Scott! Cousin Stiles, come make haste or we shall be late for his Lordship."

Stiles sighed he had forgotten that they dined for the last time with Lord Peter. At least he would be spared Mr Hale's company, although he would have enjoyed seeing the Colonel one more time.

 

Stiles was subdued as they walked up the long, straight drive to the house. He rarely went among company of his own choosing, most often he went to satisfy an obligation or sense of duty. This was one outing he could well do without and he wasn't looking forward to it at all.

"I have been endeavouring to add up the number of times Lord Peter has invited us to dine since your arrival, dear cousin and believe it may be as many as _nine_." Daehler.'s voice droned on.

"Ten," Scott corrected, "including this one."

"Ten! My word!" Daehler laughed nasally. "So many. You have indeed been favoured with peculiar condescension." Stiles did not reply. "Do you not agree cousin Stiles?" He prompted.

"Oh," he was drawn from his thoughts, "yes indeed."

"How could anyone think otherwise and this is to be your last invitation. On this visit at any rate." Daehler nodded.

"Yes, it is a most cruel depravation indeed. Why I hardly know how I will bear the loss of Lord Peter's society." Stiles tried to put as much feeling into his reply as possible.

Daehler stopped walking and turned toward him.

"Oh, my dear, young cousin I beg your pardon." A look of deep concern crossed his face. "Of course you must feel the prospect of such a loss most keenly. But be of good cheer, you shall visit us again and Lord Peter might on that occasion renew his invitations and acquaintance." He nodded and smiled encouragingly.

"God I hope not." Stiles muttered under his breath.


	7. Chapter 7

Dinner followed the usual pattern. Lord Peter dominated the conversation entirely and required no answer excepting the odd nod or word of agreement or approval, which Mr Daehler gladly supplied. Lady Malia remained silent throughout although Stiles did catch her studying him a time or two.

After the meal they withdrew to the small drawing room, the one reserved for the entertaining of persons such as themselves. Stiles sat on the chaise between Scott and Lorilee, Mr Daehler occupied a chair close to Lord Peter and Malia, Mr Finstock and Malia had the short chaise to themselves. Lord Peter's voice droned on.

"The gentlemen were loathe to leave me, but so they always are." Lord Peter smiled and nodded. "The dear Colonel rallied his spirits tolerably well but poor Derek was beyond consolation and quite downcast. His attachment to Eichen House grows greatly." He gave a knowing smile and looked pointedly at Malia. Stiles followed his look. Lady Malia was too occupied with her doll to take the slightest notice or acknowledge that she even heard.

Lord Peter narrowed his eyes and peered at Stiles.

"You are very dull company tonight, Master Stiles. You have not spoken two words together all evening, are you so out of spirits?" He asked pointedly.

Stiles looked up.

"No indeed Sir."

"But of course you are," he corrected, "come, there is no need to be shy. You are desolate to be going away yourself."

Mr Daehler leaned forward. "Who indeed would not be desolate to be deprived of Eichen House," Lord Peter looked at Daehler sharply, " and indeed of the gracious condesc........"

Lord Peter lost interest and turned away.

"You will write immediately to your mother and inform her that you are to stay another fortnight." Lord Peter instructed. "Sons are barely of any consequence to mothers."

"My father wants me home Sir." Stiles answered quickly. "He wrote last week instructing my return." Scott gaped at him open mouthed astonished by the lie. "Your Lordship is very kind, but regretfully I must leave next week as planned." Stiles finished.

"Nonsense. Tell your father I request it and I am sure he will spare you. And if you will stay another month altogether," he gestured, "it will be in my power to take you as far as London myself in the carriage."

Mr Daehler gasped.

Lord Peter snorted. "I do not approve of young persons gadding about in public coaches, all kinds of mischief may occur." He gave Stiles a hard stare. "I am very mindful to such things."

"I believe I will be quite safe," Stiles assured his Lordship, "cousin Daehler's coach will take me to the public coach and my uncle will send a coach to attend me the rest of the journey." Stiles added quickly. 

"Oh, your Uncle _keeps_ servants and coaches then?" He smirked a little. "I am pleased someone attends to such matters." He drew a deep breath. "All the same it is highly irregular... Where will you change coaches?"

Stiles opened his mouth to speak but he cut him off.

"Bromley of course." He nodded."Mention my name at The Bell and they will attend you well."

"Your Lordship is most kind." Stiles inclined his head.

"Indeed we are all deeply grateful for your Lordship's kindness and concern." Mr Daehler smiled and nodded.

"Yes, yes, " he replied irritably, "but this is all _extremely_ vexing!" His eyes narrowed at Stiles. "I am _most_ put out."

 

The next day the McCall carriage arrived at The Parsonage to take Scott to rendezvous with his father in London, Stiles helped Mr Daehler load Scott's trunks onto the coach and Scott and Lorilee bid a tearful farewell. Stiles was greatly saddened to see his dear friend leave, but they would meet up again upon Scott's return home.

Six days later and it was Stiles turn to leave. He and the coach driver, Dawkins loaded his trunks onto the back of the Daehler' small carriage. When it was done Dawkins checked the horses. Stiles wandered a little way up the graveled drive and took a last look at the countryside and Parsonage. He wasn't exactly sad to leave, so much had happened there and it was a very picturesque place but on the whole he was not sorry to be going. He had so much to tell Lydia and so much to keep concealed. Most of all he regretted leaving Lorilee and didn't know when he might next see her. He comforted himself that if she was not _happy_ she was content and well taken care of. His cousin was not a poor husband and although he thought him dull witted and a terrible sycophant, he was kind and reasonably thoughtful to her. A movement at his right shoulder caught his attention and he turned toward his cousin standing there.

"Well cousin Stiles, we must say goodbye, but I hope you will visit again."

"I shall." He nodded. "Thank you for your generous hospitality."

Daehler nodded.

"I hope that knowledge of our circumstances has settled your mind to Mrs Daehler's happiness and that she is well cared for." There was a understanding in Daehler's eyes.

Stiles frowned a little. "She seems very content."

"Cousin, I am well aware what your opinion of me is and that you were shocked by our marriage."

"No, I...." Stiles started to protest.

Daehler held up his hand with a smile. "It is of little consequence. And I appreciate your concern for your friend. My situation is such that her future is secure and I congratulate myself that we seem to have been made for each other." He cast an affectionate look at Lorilee. "I am happy in my choice and I believe she in hers. We _all_ do what we must to secure our circumstances." He added cryptically.

Stiles suddenly realized that maybe he had been as mistaken in his cousin, and that he realized the reason for Lorilee's choice in him for a husband. He held out his hand and they shook.

"I wish you every happiness cousin." Stiles said with sincerity.

"And I hope cousin Stiles that you find someone to share your life and are as happy and content as I."

 

Lorilee hugged him before he clambered into the coach, reminded him of his obligation to write and hoped that whatever dampened his spirits was soon resolved. He promised faithfully to write try and visit again before Christmas.

The Daehler coach took Stiles the five miles to join the London bound Stagecoach at Little Wolding. He and his luggage were transferred for the onward journey as far as Bromley where he would leave the Stagecoach and spend the night at The Bell. The next day he would be picked up by the Cajos' coach carrying Lydia back to Hertforshire and all of them would travel home together.

Stiles was both looking forward to and dreading seeing Lydia again.

Stiles gazed out of the carriage window lost in thought. He could not believe it had been two months and how much he had done and what had happened. Not least of which and weighed most heavily on his mind Mr Hale's proposal and how that gentleman had been the cause of ruining Lydia's future happiness with Mr Parrish.

Stiles lent forward for a last look at the Kent countryside.

"How much I have to conceal." He muttered grimly under is breath. As he watched the countryside drift by Mr Hale's words echoed in his ears and image swam before his eyes....

_'You will allow me to express how much I have come to ardently admire and love you.'_

Could it be true despite all objections Mr Hale _did_ love him? He always seemed so cold, aloof, arrogant and disdainful. He had been sadly mistaken about his dealings with Raeken, was he mistaken as to his character too? He didn't believe so.

_'I beg you to end my torment and consent to become my Companion.'_

How could he even _think_ about being Companion to the man who separated Lydia and Mr Parrish? Whose arrogant presumption had been the cause of so much unhappiness? Besides he could never live with a man of Hale's disposition it was unthinkable. And he knew what folly it was to form an alliance with the thought of changing the other person, it never worked. All the same there was a deep ache within him that he felt only Derek Hale could cure.

The Bell was a large, timber framed public house. It had numerous rooms, private and public dining rooms and extensive stables where the coach horses were housed. They arrived toward the later part of the afternoon. Stiles disembarked first and his luggage was unloaded and carried inside. A room had been entailed for him. He turned and as he did so he heard his name called by a familiar voice.

"Stiles! Stiles, you dolt up here!"

He looked up and stifled a groan as Erica and Allison leaned out from an upper storey window, waving and shouting, grins on their faces. He hurried inside.

It transpired that Erica and Allison were come to meet up with him and eventually Lydia and journey home with them. They had hired a private dining room and ordered dinner for them all...

"Lord your face when you looked up at the window and saw us. I'll wager you didn't expect us to come and meet you?" Erica babbled excitedly.

Stiles followed her into the small dining room and Allison brought up the rear.

"No," Stiles smiled tightly, " it is a _great_ surprise."

A table groaned under masses of food. Stiles shed his coat and looked at the servant standing by attentively.

"We took the liberty of ordering dinner. Is this not nice? " Erica made an expansive gesture at the table. "There's ham and pork, pies, salads, cake, wine and every good thing." She babbled. "Only you will have to pay for it, I spent all our money on this hat." She picked up a truly hideous blue bonnet. "Is it not the most hideous object you ever did see?" She held it up.

Stiles blinked at it. "If you think it hideous, why did you buy it?"

"There were others _much_ more hideous in the shop. " Allison explained.

The logic was lost on Stiles, the servant sniggered.

"Thank you," Stiles addressed the servant, "we will call if you are needed. You may go."

He gave a curt bow. "Very good Sir." He left closing the door.

Erica threw the bonnet onto a chair. "I shall unpick it when we get home and make it up anew."

Of course, that explained everything.

They settled to eat.

"Anyway," Erica pouted, "I do not care a fig what I look like for the regiment is to leave Mereton and summer in Brighton." She said sulkily.

"Brighton?" Stiles checked.

"Yes, we've tried to persuade papa to take us there for the season but he refuses out of hand to do so." Allison complained.

"You will talk to him, Stiles," Erica instructed, "he listens to you."

"Me?" Stiles helped himself to ham and salad. "I am glad to hear they are to go."

"But wouldn't you like to go to Brighton? " Allison asked.

Stiles smiled. "No indeed not."

"He will change his mind when he hears the news." Erica gave a mysterious smile. "Shall we tell him Allison?"

"Yes for it concerns a great favourite."

Stiles frowned.

Erica lent forward. "Mr Raeken is to go with the regiment and _not_ marry Mary King after all. Her uncle found out about the match and whisked her away to Liverpool. Raeken is saved." She giggled.

"Perhaps we should rather say Miss King is saved." Stiles replied sourly.

Erica frowned. "Poor Mr Raeken."

"But was there a great love between them do you not think?" Allison asked.

Erica recoiled. "Not on Raeken's part I am sure. She was a small, nasty, freckled thing." Stiles scowled. "Do not look at me like that Stiles. You saw her and must agree...... There, aren't you glad we came to meet you?" Erica grinned.

Stiles gave a heavy sigh.

Lydia and the coach picked them up after breakfast next morning. It was perhaps a measure of the journey with three women that Stiles ended up riding on the outside with the driver.

They were back at Beacon by mid afternoon where their father gave Stiles and Lydia a rapturous welcome, their mother less so. The coach headed back to Gracechurch Street.

 

Stiles waited until late evening to talk to Lydia. He had said very little except to talk of generalities to other members of the family and only mentioned Mr Hale in passing. 

 

Lydia settled back onto her pillows. Her thick shawl was about her shoulders and her hair in one, long braid for sleeping. Stiles sat in his dressing gown at the end of her bed.

"Let me comprehend this correctly. Mr Hale asked you to be his Companion?" Her eyes were wide and her face reflected her incredulity.

Stiles nodded.

"I can scarce believe it!" She looked quickly at Stiles. "I do not mean that you are unworthy to be his Companion dear brother, or that you do not warrant his admiration ..... But that he seemed so severe, cold and indifferent and that he admired you all the time?"

"Apparently," Stiles agreed quietly.

Her face fell a little. "And you turned him down?"

Stiles sighed. "How could I not? I could never be Companion to such a proud, arrogant and presumptuous man."

"All the same I feel a deal sorry for him. Poor Mr Hale." Lydia's brow furrowed.

"I cannot feel so much compassion for him." Stiles shook his head. "He couched his offer in such a way that made it clear he had other feelings which will soon drive away any regard he felt for me."

Lydia looked at him questioningly. 

"Oh, " Stiles frowned, "you do not blame me for refusing him?"

"No, not at all." Lydia hurried to answer. "You had your reasons and know your own heart best."

But that was the thing, he didn't.

Stiles looked away and then turned his head again toward her. 

"But you _do_ blame me for speaking so well of Mr Raeken, you did warn me against taking his word to heart."

"What?! No, no." She held out her hand toward him and he grasped it. "You were not to know and no blame can be attached to you. His story was sad and had such ring of truth to it that anyone might have been deceived. No-one could have known his vicious character..... " She ducked her head. "If indeed he is so very bad. But I cannot believe Mr Hale would fabricate such a dreadful slander involving his sister unless it is true." She lifted her eyes to him. "It _has_ to be true.... " She worried at her bottom lip. "Perhaps there has been some awful, tragic mistake?"

"No, Lydia." Stiles laughed lightly. "That will not do." He shook his head. "Dear Lydia, you cannot make them _both_ good, one has to be a villain. There is just enough merit between them to make one good sort of man." His brow furrowed deeply and he looked thoughtful. "For my part I am now inclined to think it _all_ Mr Hale."

"Poor Mr Hale, poor Miss Hale...... Poor Mr Raeken there is such goodness in his face and honest expression."

"Aye I believe one _has_ all the goodness and the other all the expression of it." Stiles sighed.

"But Stiles," Lydia looked at him seriously, "when you first read that letter I do not believe you made so light of it as you do now?"

"No," he hung his head, "indeed I confess I did not...... I was very uncomfortable. I did not believe how I could be so wrong and deceived. The dreadful things I had said," distress crossed his face, " and I did not have you to comfort and advise me."

"What will you do?" Lydia queried.

"If ever I see Mr Hale again I will apologise and beg his forgiveness on this matter." He answered firmly.

"You could write to him." Lydia suggested.

"On a grave error of judgement such as this, I believe I must apologise in person. No other course of action will do."

Lydia nodded in agreement.

"There is one point on which I seek your advice."

"Of course, if I can help." Lydia listened closely.

"Should our parents and general acquaintances be alerted to Mr Raeken's true character"

Lydia thought for a moment. "Surely there can be no reason to expose him so cruelly? He might be very sorry for what he has done and seek to redeem himself? We must not put anything in the way of it.......What are your own thoughts on the matter?"

"That we ought not to do it. I believe Mr Hale wrote to me in confidence. He has not authorised me to cast it abroad and I do not think he would be pleased if I did. Especially as it concerns his sister." Stiles chewed his bottom lip. "And in any case who would believe it?" He gestured. "Such is the prejudice against Mr Hale and the support for Mr Raeken so strong....I do not believe it worth attempting. And in any rate Mr Raeken will soon be gone from our society with the regiment and we will be rid of him."

"I agree." Lydia supported him. "I think it for the best..."

 

Knives and forks scraped against the breakfast plates.

"Stiles! You speak to Papa tell him he _must_ take us to Brighton," Erica whined,"you know he listens to your advice."

Mr Stilinski peered disapprovingly over his spectacles at his youngest daughter.

"You flatter me with too much influence," Stiles shook his head, "and in any case I think it a very _good_ idea that the regiment be removed from Mereton and that _we_ be removed as far as possible from the regiment."

"Stiles!" His mother commented sharply. "How can you say such a thing?"

"Very easily Ma'am," he replied, "if one company of militia can cause such a display of impropriety and havoc within our family what will a camp full of soldiers do?"

"Impropriety? Whatever do you mean, Stiles? " His mother asked sharply and then continued. "I remember when I was a girl, I cried for a week when the regiment left. I thought I should die of a broken heart." She reminisced.

Mr Stilinski rolled his eyes.

"Well I am sure I _shall_ break mine." Erica glared at her father.

"And mine!" Allison added.

"Well I do not care if the soldiers go or stay." Isaac added.

Erica, Allison and her mother glared at him.

"There, there my chicks....But your father is determined to be _cruel_." Mrs Stilinski glared at her husband.

Mr Stilinski answered without looking up from his plate. "I confess I am. I'm sorry to be causing so many broken hearts but I will not yield."

"Mrs Harris says she shall go sea bathing." Allison added.

"Sea bathing!" Erica echoed. "But I would _love_ to go sea bathing!"

"Sea bathing would set me up a treat." Mrs Stilinski nodded.

Mr Stilinski sipped his tea. "And yet sadly I remain firm in my decision." He swiped his mouth with his napkin and stood. "I shall be in my library if I am wanted." He walked to the door. "I am relived you are home Stiles and you too Lydia my dear." He closed the door behind him.

Erica threw down her cutlery petulantly and whined loudly. "I want to go to Brighton!" She drummed her feet in frustration on the floor under the table...

 

Later in the morning Lydia wandered in the flower garden at the back of the house. She carried a wicker flower basket and pair of scissors. She bypassed the pink and purple Lupins and headed for the tall, white Michaelmas Daises and began to cut them with long stems and lay them in her basket. Stiles studied her for a time from the window of the music room. She looked sad and there was a air of melancholy hung about her like a shroud. Unable to bear it any longer he went out, took the basket from her and followed her as she meandered through the flowers.

"You are not happy Lydia." He said quietly. "It pains me to see it."

She raised her head to him.

"It is just that I did...Still do prefer Mr Parrish to any other gentleman that I have met and I believed that he..." She shrugged with a sigh. "But I was mistaken."

Stiles frowned and bit his bottom lip wondering if he should tell her that their separation was Mr Hale's doing.

"I am resolved to dwell on it no more and in time will forget him." She squared her shoulders."Don't worry on my account Stiles, I am determined to make the best of things and be myself once more." She gave a watery smile. "Anyway dear brother, " she looked at him with a raised brow, "I do not think you are in the best of spirits either."

Stiles answered her smile. "We are a proper pair," he replied on a sigh.

She took the basket from him. "I think I shall retire indoors and pass some time in solitude and reflection."

Stiles nodded, she wanted to be alone in her unhappiness and he couldn't fault her. As she went into the house, his mother came out and headed straight for him bent on the same task as Lydia.

"Now Stiles, is this not a pretty how-do--you-do about poor Lydia?" She pushed her flower basket into his hands and began to hack at the flowers with her scissors. "I do not believe she saw Mr Parrish _at all_ while she was in London and has no hope of getting him now. Well I think he's a very undeserving young man!" Stiles rolled his eyes. "If only he would return to Lake House."

"I think that to be _very_ unlikely Ma'am." Stiles replied.

"Oh well he can please as he likes, no-one _wants_ him to come I am sure. I shall always say he used poor Lydia _very_ ill." She hacked at the daisies. "My one consolation may be that she will die of a broken heart and _then_ he will be sorry!" She bobbed her head sharply.

Stiles looked at his mother open mouthed, perhaps he would die too and make her happiness complete!

"Mamma! Mamma! Stiles!" They raised their head to see Erica and Allison run helter skelter from the house, skirts flying and Erica shouting and waving a letter aloft. They ran up to them, both breathless and Erica bubbling with excitement. "Guess what? Oh you never will so I will tell you!" She read from the letter in her hand. "Mrs Harris has asked that _I_ be allowed to go with her to Brighton as her companion and _particular_ friend." She giggled and bounced. Mrs Stilinski squealed with delight. "Colonel Harris is to seek out a house for us!"

Mrs Stilinski squealed again and threw up her hands. "Erica! I am so happy and _what_ an honour!"

Allison scowled and pouted. "It is not fair! I am her friend too. Mrs Harris should have asked us both. I should go as well, I am a year older than Erica!"

"Ha, ha, ha, ha......I cannot help it if I am her _particular_ friend." Erica crowed.

Allison turned and flounced away.

"Well," Erica gazed after her. I do not see why she is so vexed, I am sure I will bring her back a present. It is not _my_ fault Mrs Harris likes me above anyone."

"Do not be so quick to crow over your sister Erica, it is by no means settled father will let you go." Stiles warned.

"He will not stop me, not when Colonel Harris requests I attend his wife." Erica gloated. "Oh Mamma I shall have to be bought new clothes for there will be balls and parties every night!"

Mrs Stilinski clapped her hands together in excitement."Of course you shall my chick, we would not see you disgraced in front of all the officers!" She gave a sly wink to Stiles.

Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Ooooooooh officers!" Erica bounced excitedly.

 

Stiles paced up and down in front of his father's desk in the library.

"I cannot believe Sir that you are even _thinking_ about allowing Erica to go to Brighton."

"I understand your concern for your sister and it does you credit." His father polished his spectacles. "But consider Erica will never be easy until she has displayed herself in some public venue and here," he pushed on his spectacles, "is the perfect opportunity for her to do so." He gestured."At very little expense or inconvenience to her family!"

"If you were aware father of the very grave disadvantage to us all of Erica's uncontrolled and imprudent manner you would not agree. She opens herself and thereby her sisters, myself and Isaac to ridicule and charges of impropriety. Indeed she has already done so." Stiles stated strongly.

"Already done so?" Mr Stilinski frowned. "Who has she scared away? Have you a secret lover of which I am unaware?" His father teased. "Who would charge you or Lydia with impropriety? You are liked, admired and accepted wherever you go." He protested. "Come Stiles such squeamish alliances are not worth vexing over." He coaxed.

"You mistake me Sir, _I_ have no injuries to resent." He breathed hard. "I speak of generalities..." He paused. "Ou....Our position as a family our very respectability is called into question by her wild, imprudent behaviour."

Mr Stilinski sighed heavily and took off his spectacles and laid them on the desk. He pinched the bridge of his nose."You overstate the case..." He answered tiredly.

"That's the problem, indeed Sir I do not!" Stiles answered sharply.

Mr Stilinski's head snapped up. "Stiles." He said warningly.

"Forgive me Sir but for all our sakes I must speak plainly." Stiles leaned on his hands on the desk. "If you do not take a hand and check her wild behaviour while there is still yet time, her character will be set as one of the most blatant flirts that ever made herself and her family ridiculous!" He pushed up from the desk.

Mr Stilinski sat back.

"You know Allison follows her lead," Stiles continued, "don't you see they will be censured and rejected wherever they are known and that they will involve the reputations of their siblings?" Stiles pleaded.

"Stiles, Stiles........... Don't be so uneasy." His father soothed. "I dare say you, Isaac and Lydia will not suffer any great disadvantage for having two very silly Sisters. "

Stiles huffed. How could his father be so blind? 'Great disadvantage'..Lydia and his live's had been ruined already partly by their younger sister's behaviour and lack of parental control!

"Erica will give us no peace until she is allowed to go. Colonel Harris is a sensible man and will keep an eye on her, if Mrs Harris may not. She's too poor to be the object of prey to a fortune hunter. I see little harm to it and we may pass a peaceful summer in her absence." He shrugged, picked up his spectacles and pushed them on.

Stiles opened his mouth to speak.

"The matter is decided." His father added quickly.

A week later Stiles's mother insisted on holding a party for all the officers before they left for Brighton. Colonel and Mrs Harris were the guests of honour and all the officers turned out, including Theo Raeken. Stiles could not object to his invitation without revealing why it ought to be withheld. He resolved instead to avoid him as much as possible within the confines of the parlour. Mrs Harris sat with Erica and they talked secretly and laughed and giggled together. Stiles was fast becoming of the opinion that she was as giddy as Erica and this did not ease his mind about Brighton.

Colonel Harris leaned against the mantle and talked to his mother seated on the chaise while his father looked on. Raeken ingratiated himself with the Colonel by standing close by and agreeing at intervals with everything that was said. The other officers milled around and Stiles talked with Ethan who was abandoned by Erica in favour of Mrs Harris. Aiden talked with Allison and attempted to cheer her up, but she was determined to be sullen.

"We are desolate Colonel that the regiment is to leave Mereton." Mrs Stilinski nodded. "But words cannot express what we feel about your great kindness to our dear Erica."

"We are just as desolate to be going." The Colonel acknowledged. "As to your daughter Ma'am, Mrs Harris assures me she cannot bear to be parted from her."

At that moment there was a peal of laughter and loud giggling from where the ladies in question were seated. 

"Look at the pair of them, thick as thieves." The Colonel gestured to where they sat. "The Lord knows what amuses them but anything to keep the ladies happy. Eh, Mr Raeken?"

"Yes indeed Colonel," he agreed pleasantly. Raeken turned to look and caught sight of Stiles. With a smile he inclined his head but Stiles did not acknowledge him. Theo turned back, bowed and turned to search out Stiles.

Stiles saw him cross toward him, but he was trapped.

"I shall miss your company greatly Stiles." Raeken smiled.

Stiles sipped his tea and gave a tight lipped smile in response. "Well, we shall just have to bear the deprivation. You are for Brighton and I am to tour The Lakes with my Aunt and Uncle Cajos. I dare say we shall each find diversion in our own way." He sipped his tea. "I hear you are not to marry Miss King after all?"

"No." Raeken sighed heavily. "Sadly her uncle did not sanction the match and she was loathe to go against his wishes."

Stiles gave a nod of understanding. "She could not be persuaded to elope perhaps?" Stiles remarked casually.

Raeken gave him a quizzical look and changed the subject....

"You are recently returned from Kent." Raeken stated.

"Indeed." Stiles answered succinctly.

"How did you find it?"

"Very pleasant." He didn't elaborate.

"And your friend? Miss McCall wasn't it?" Raeken frowned a bit at Stiles's lack of communication.

"She is well settled, better than I expected. It seems I might have judged my cousin too quickly."

Raeken nodded. "And Eichen House? Did you visit?"

"We were Lord Peter's guests on a weekly basis."

Raeken's eyebrows rose. "You were much favoured."

"Yes, indeed. While we were there Colonel Deucalion and Mr Hale arrived." Stiles smiled. "Are you acquainted with Colonel Deucalion?"

"Yes," he shook his head slightly, "a very little in times distant. He is a pleasant, easy going gentleman. ...How did you like him?"

Stiles smiled. "I liked him a great deal," he answered truthfully.

"His manners are altogether the opposite of his cousin's." Theo said grimly.

"They are." Stiles agreed, "but I find Mr Hale improves steadily on greater acquaintance."

"Indeed?" Raeken answered cautiously with mock surprise.. "How so? Can one hope that he has learnt a little civility in his address? One dare not hope he has improved in essentials."

"No, indeed in _essentials_ I believe he is as he always was."

"Ahhhh." Raeken nodded.

"I do not imply that he is greatly changed character in any way but rather that _I_ was mistaken in his manner and in certain particulars that have been made clear to me. " Stiles looked Raeken straight in the eye. "I believe I understand him a deal better and my opinion of him is much improved."

"I see." Raeken smiled tightly and bowed. "Goodbye Stiles."

Stiles made no reply, but allowed himself a slight smirk as Raeken slunk away.

In the middle of the next week Erica left for Brighton. The Stilinski coach took her into Mereton and there she was to transfer to a coach Colonel Harris had hired for his wife and travel onward to Brighton. The family gathered at the front of the house to see her off. She had a single medium sized trunk on the back of the carriage filled to bulging with new clothes. They had cost a pretty penny and caused Allison to be jealous. For once Mr Stilinski had not complained at the expense. He loved his youngest daughter but to be rid of her for the summer was not an opportunity to be missed and hang the expense!

Erica giggled and half fell into the coach despite the helping hand of the footman.

"Lord what a lark if I should fall and break my head!"

"I wish you would!" Allison spat viciously and caused her father as well as Stiles to glare at her.

Erica leaned out of the coach window.

"I shall write express if I find any eligible beaus for you." She waved.

"Now take every opportunity of enjoying yourself." Mrs Stilinski instructed.

Erica wagged her head enthusiastically.

Stiles rolled his eyes, the _last_ thing Erica needed was encouragement.

The carriage rolled away down the drive with Erica hanging from the window and waving. Allison's face crumpled and she began to sob dramatically.

"There, there my dear." Her father patted her shoulder. "I dare say you will recover in a year or two." He drew in a deep breath. "If I am required I shall be in my library and not to be disturbed unless there is a dire emergency...."

 

It was at the beginning of the next week that the Cajos coach rolled to a halt in front of the house early Monday morning. Stiles and Lydia were there to greet them and Stiles helped his aunt from the coach and his uncle kissed both of Lydia's cheeks. Stiles kissed their aunt's cheek.

"We bring bad tidings." She looked worriedly at Stiles. "Though it is to be hoped not too grievous."

"The fault is entirely mine." His uncle chipped in. "I simply cannot spare the time from my business to visit all the lake country. We shall upon this occasion have to content ourselves with Derbyshire."

Stiles kept the disappointment from his countenance. He had been greatly looking forward to the delights of Windermere, Ullswater, Wastwater and the splendour of the Cumbrian Hills and picturesque beauty of the landscape. "Oh, but I have heard Derbyshire has many splendours." He said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

"Indeed it has. To me Derbyshire is the best of counties." His aunt smiled. "I was born in Lampton and spent much of my childhood there. You will judge for yourself if Chatsworth is not the equal of Blenheim Palace and surely there is nothing to rival the splendour and untamed beauty of the Peaks"....."

 

Stiles looked out at the changing Landscape as the coach rattled along. Rolling hills, high Tors, wild desolate heath and moorland. Picturesque valley's, high waterfalls and racing streams. Gentle villages and hamlets and busy market towns, the Peak District had them all.

"Nature and culture in harmony you see, Stiles." His uncle pointed out the landscape. Wildness and artifice and all in the one perfect county."

"I should never take issue with that estimation." His aunt laughed.

"Where are we to stay?" Stiles queried.

" The Bull at Lampton where I grew up. A small village of no consequence except to those who have lived there. I think it quite the dearest of places."

"Then I shall not be content until I have seen it for myself." Stiles smiled warmly.

His aunt cast a swift look at her smiling husband. "It might have one other claim on your interest. It is only _five_ miles from Nemeton and owes much of its existence and prosperity to the Hale's and that great estate."

"Nemeton, five miles?" Stiles heart lurched and his eyes widened.

"Yes, not that I or any one of my acquaintance can lay claim to intimacy with that great family." She added hurriedly. " We moved in _very_ different circles."

 

Just over a hundred miles away, Hale was attending his Sword Master in London. He was determined to rid himself of the thoughts and feelings for Stiles that plagued his dreams and every waking hour. Hard, physical exercise provided some relief from the almost perpetual ache of longing and fencing distracted and occupied his mind. He had attended everyday while he was in London. Mr Briggs wondered why his most adept pupil came to the exclusive and expensive school so often and what drove him while he was there. Over the days Hale had about worn out every opponent who would take him on. His fencing had a new and vicious intensity that almost bordered on the dangerous. 

The marble hall echoed to the scrape of foils and the grunts of the men as they circled, parried and thrust around the marble columns. Other students watched on, intrigued by the fight. By agreement they each used an *epee in preference to the sabre and there was nothing flashy or showy in the way they fought. Fencing is most like an elaborate and deadly game of chess, with each opponent trying to out think and out manoeuvre the other. It was a game Hale played with consummate skill and an intense look of his face.

Mr Briggs was a slender man in his fifties with white hair and clean shaven. He had a hawkish look to his face and eyes but was in fact a kind and mild mannered individual of great patience. Well suited his profession of Fencing Master. He wore no face mask but the right side of his shoulder, underarm and torso were protected by a fawn plaston. For the rest he wore a loose white shirt, black protective fencing glove on his right hand and half breeches with socks and shoes. Hale was dressed the same but wore no protection but a glove on his right hand. It was highly irregular but Briggs was prepared to be flexible for his star pupil and for Hale's part avoiding injury concentrated the mind wonderfully well. Sweat glistened on Derek's face and ran into his eyes, his hair was plastered to his forehead. He lunged suddenly and stuck a blow to the Fencing Master's plastron.

"A hit Sir!" Mr Briggs smiled."Acknowledged." Hale lowered his weapon. "Enough for today Sir?"

"Aye enough."Hale replied and handed his epee and glove to a servant and accepted the towel he held and swiped his face.

"Shall we expect you tomorrow Sir?" Briggs asked.

"No Sir, not tomorrow. I leave this very afternoon for Nemeton on business and will not return to London for two or three weeks." Mr Briggs nodded. "However you will see me immediately I return."Hale added.

"Very good Mr Hale. May I wish you a safe journey."

"Thank you Mr Briggs. Good day to you."Hale headed from the hall. He gritted his teeth. "Damn you boy, I will conquer this, I _will_!" He muttered tightly.

 

On the third day of their visit uncle Cajos hired the services of a guide and the four of them and a large picnic basket headed out to explore the area on foot. By mid afternoon Stiles had climbed to the very top of a high Tor watched anxiously by his aunt, uncle and the guide. It was beautiful, tranquil and picturesque. In the far distance a small lake twinkled in the sunlight and wild moorland stretched to a small village miles distant. He lent for a moment against the smooth stone of the Tor. Overhead a hawk called and was answered by its mate. Stiles watched as it swooped and soared over the moor and heath land. In another direction the land was lush and green, it rolled and dipped interspersed with the odd copse of trees and hedged field. Further in the distance still the hills rose towering over the landscape, grey and green, rising up from the earth. Fluffy, white clouds scurried along in a periwinkle blue sky and the sun beamed warmly down.

It was beautiful. It was everything his aunt had said and more.

He turned three hundred and sixty degrees slowly and lifted his face to the sun.

"Be careful Stiles!" His aunt shouted. "I do not want to explain to your mother and father how you fell and broke your head!"

He smiled and waved to them...

 

They had taken a private suite of rooms at The Bull and had their own small parlour and dining room as well as two large bedrooms. They were looked after by Hannah. She was a young, plump girl of bright and friendly disposition, pleasant manners and ruddy cheeked good looks. Stiles was starving by the time they sat down to eat that evening. Hannah put the pots of vegetables on the table along with the port and wine. She cleared away the large porcelain tureen containing the remains of vegetable soup.

Stiles took a sip of port. "I think I should be pleased to stay in Derbyshire my whole life."

"I am pleased to hear it," his aunt laughed as she spooned vegetables onto their plates. "Now what do you say to visiting Nemeton tomorrow? It is not directly on our way, but only a mile or two from it."

"Nemeton?" Stiles's heart pounded. "Do you wish to see it then, aunt?"

"I thought perhaps _you_ would, having heard so much about it and met its owner. I am sure not all the associations unpleasant, did not Mr Raeken say he spent his youth there?

Stiles nodded.

"I confess, I should like to see it too." Joyce added. "I should not care very much if it were just another magnificent house full of fine furniture, but it is reputed to have some of the finest grounds and woodland in the country."

"Aye, his uncle agreed. " The Royal Houses are grander perhaps but they say only Thornfield Hall has grounds to match. That is owned by Mr Rochester in Yorkshire and his estate is as big as Nemeton. Is that not true Hannah?"

Hannah put down a plate of Mutton. "Aye it is Sir. Nemeton has the finest grounds you'll see anywhere. My older brother is one of the under gardeners there."

"I should not like to disturb the privacy of the family and would feel awkward visiting without an invitation." Stiles commented shyly, suddenly very daunted by the prospect of coming face to face with Mr Hale.

"No more so than Chatsworth or Blenheim and there was no awkwardness in visiting them." His aunt reminded.

"What is the precise distance to Nemeton, Hannah?" His Uncle asked.

"Not more than five miles Sir." She answered with a nod.

"And do you know Hannah, if the family is at home?" His uncle queried.

"They are not Sir. Miss Hale's at school in London and presently Mr Hale visits there."

"Thank you Hannah." Mr Cajos smiled.

"You're welcome Sir."

"We will call if we need you."

Hannah inclined her head. "Thank you Sir. Enjoy your meal." She went out closing the door behind her.

"What a pleasant girl." His uncle served the meat.

Stiles nodded and gave an excited smile. "Perhaps we might visit Nemeton after all."

"It is settled then, tomorrow we shall visit ." His Aunt agreed.....

 

Next day the carriage entered Nemeton's fine grounds and trotted on. On each side lay vast, rolling areas of grass punctuated with huge Oaks, a narrow but deep river spanned by a quaint stone bridge, a distant lake, wild flowers, shrubs and bushes, deep woods and sunlit groves. In time this gave way to more formal lawns and still the carriage seemed to trundle on endlessly. Stiles felt inexplicably nervous and grew impatient to see the house.

"I think we've seen woods and groves enough to even satisfy you, eh, Stiles?" His uncle asked in an amused voice.

"I confess I had no idea Nemeton was so vast and these are just the grounds, how far must the whole estate cover?" Stiles asked breathlessly.

His uncle laughed.

"Will we reach the house itself before dusk do you think?" Stiles teased.

"Oh hush Stiles," his aunt remonstrated kindly, "be patient, wait and look through the trees, there..." She nodded through the trees to their left. "There it is....."

 

And there it was, seen through a parting of the trees, bathed in sunshine the vast edifice that was Nemeton.

"Stop the coach!" His uncle ordered and the coach rolled to a halt.

Stiles stared, wide eyed and open mouthed in awe.

His aunt and uncle looked at each other and then at him, kind amusement on their faces.

A lawn stretched from the front of the house to a large, natural pond. But its beauty was nothing to the house itself.

It rose the height of three storey's above ground and one below housing servants quarters and kitchens. It was long, had numerous chimneys and windows. Stiles could not help but think Mr Daehler would be enraptured. The roof was entirely Welsh slate, the brickwork dressed sandstone. It had fifteen bays and the central protruded and acted as a gateway. There were Doric columns and the whole of the front done in a Baroque style.

It was the most magnificent and beautiful house Stiles had ever seen. He stared and sighed.

His aunt smiled, having been told by Lydia of some of what had passed between Stiles and Mr Hale. "I think," she smiled, "one would be willing to put up with a great deal to live here."

"Whoever lives here _will_ have to put up with a great deal if your stories about Mr Hale's arrogance, disdain, pride and presumption are to be believed, are they not Stiles?" His uncle pressed him.

"How do you like it Stiles?" His aunt whispered to him.

At first he couldn't find breath to voice his words. "I like it very well.." He pushed out on a whisper. "Very well indeed..."

His aunt and uncle cast each other glances and smiled.

"It is a great pity the owner is such a _disagreeable_ man." His uncle teased.

"A great pity." Stiles sighed.

"Perhaps the beauty of the house and its setting renders the owner a little less.... _repulsive_ , Stiles?" His aunt queried.

"Perhaps.....Yes, a little," he smiled, "a very little." He responded.

"Drive on!" His uncle instructed and the carriage moved off.

"Well, his uncle looked between his wife and Stiles, "shall we apply to the Housekeeper to view the place?"

Stiles gave a slow smile.....and nodded.

 

Mrs Lillybeck was a bird-like woman of indeterminate age, but certainly well beyond middle-age. She wore a long, plain, high waisted, brown dress with heavy, cream lace to the front, a white cap of linen with long sides and a belt hung with a heavy bunch of keys. She was small and slight and of pleasant, helpful disposition and smiled a lot. She was only too delighted to show them around, the family not being in residence and gave the impression of being called on frequently to carry out the task.

She led them slowly from room to room pointing out anything of interest. The house was as lavish, elegant and well furnished on the inside as it was impressive out the outer.

"That desk is where the late Mrs Hale used to write her letters of a morning before breakfast. This was her most favoured room." Mrs Lillybeck nodded and smiled and led them through to the music room. "This is the music room."

"What a charming room." His aunt remarked.

"Quite delightful." Her husband agreed.

Stiles brought up the rear of the party and the Housekeeper singled him out.

"If the young gentleman would care to look, there is a fine prospect from the window of the pond." She gestured and Stiles went that way whilst his aunt and uncle viewed the harp, harpsichord and other instruments displayed in the room.

The window gave a fine view of the front lawn and the large, tranquil pond edged with weeping willow and high bull rushes. Ducks swam serenely and called to one another. He sighed. "And to think I might have lived here." He mumbled.

"This particular pianoforte," Mrs Lillybeck gestured to a piano covered with a dust sheet, "has just come down from London. It's a present for Miss Cora from the Master."

"Your Master is from home I understand?" Mr Cajos asked.

"Oh yes Sir, but we are to expect him and his guests come from London tomorrow or the next day." 

Stiles turned and listened. 

"He is coming with a small party of friends and Miss Cora. Here is a portrait of Miss Cora that was painted earlier this year for her sixteenth Birthday." She gestured to a large portrait in a heavy gilt frame set upon a stand. It was of a very pretty and slender young woman with long, dark hair and serene expression. Her hair was piled up upon her head and she wore a white dress, Nemeton and its grounds in the background.

"My, she is a beautiful young woman!" Mrs Cajos exclaimed.

"She is Ma'am, the handsomest there ever was." Mrs Lillybeck nodded and smiled. "So like her dear, late mother."

"She is indeed very lovely." Stiles agreed.

"And _so_ accomplished. She sings and plays all day." The Housekeeper nodded and smiled.

"Stiles, come look here." His aunt called from the hallway. She was bent over a glass topped case containing delicately painted miniatures. "Is this not someone we know?"

Stiles and his uncle bent over the case.

"This one?" Mrs Lillybeck gestured, pointing with her finger. 

Mrs Cajos nodded.

The Housekeeper grew serious.

"That young gentleman was the son of the late Mr Hale's steward, Mr Raeken. He left Nemeton not long after the old Master died and has not been back. " Her mouth was pulled into a tight line. "He has gone into the army now but he's turned out very wild, very wild indeed I'm afraid......" Her face softened. "And that's my dear Master." She pointed to a miniature representing Derek Hale, it did not do him justice.

"It is a handsome face but I am afraid I have not met the gentleman. Is the likeness accurate, Stiles?" His aunt queried.

Stiles peered. "Hardly at all."

"Ohh," Mrs Lillybeck smiled, "Is the young gentleman acquainted with the Master?"

"Yes, a very little." Stiles blushed and replied uncertainly.

"He is much more handsome in reality, is he not?" Mrs Lillybeck coaxed with a wide smile.

"Yes," Stiles pushed out a reply, "he is a very handsome man."

"I am sure I know of none so handsome or so kind." Stiles looked at the Housekeeper curiously.

"Indeed?" Mr Cajos raised a brow.

"Aye Sir. I have known him man and boy and never had a cross word from him in all my life. A more fair, even tempered, kind and generous gentleman you couldn't wish to meet."

His aunt looked pointedly at Stiles.

"But then I have always observed," the Housekeeper looked thoughtful, "that those that are good natured as children, are good natured as adults. He was such a merry, happy little chap."

Stiles's eyes widened, it was hard to imagine Derek as a child, let alone _merry_ , _happy_ and _good natured._

"I believe his father was the most excellent of men." His aunt commented.

"That he was Ma'am." Mrs Lillybeck nodded her head solemnly in agreement. "And the son is set to be just like him." She added firmly. "The best landlord and the best Master. You just enquire of his tenants or servants." She squared her thin shoulders. "I know as _some_ people think him proud and aloof." 

She huffed and Stiles glanced at her and then caught his aunt looking at him with a raised eyebrow. 

"But they do not know him," Mrs Lillybeck continued, "and because he's reserved in company and don't rattle away and show off like some young men are want to do, they call him _proud_." She gave a derisory snort.

_Well, Stiles thought whatever else may be true, Hale engenders loyalty and affection among his servants!_

"If you've a mind to follow me, there's a large, particularly fine portrait of him in the gallery upstairs." Mrs Lillybeck indicated they should follow her.

His aunt hung back and fell in beside Stiles and whispered,"This fine account of Mr Hale is not consistent with what I have heard, especially as concerns his dealings with Mr Raeken."

"I think we may have been deceived there." Stiles ventured.

"That's likely, do you think?" She answered as they mounted the stairs.

 

Derek was hot and fatigued. His white horse's coat was turned slick, dark grey with sweat. He turned into Nemeton's familiar landscape and followed the track through the trees and cantered steadily toward the house over the rolling grounds. He'd been traveling with his party from London. Progress by coach was slower than he would have liked and he at last abandoned them and his luggage, took his horse and rode on more than a day ahead of them. It was just as well and would give him time to deal with his steward before Cora arrived and he could devote more of his time to her.

He reined back to a trot when he reached the far side of the pond that lay directly in front of the house. It was large, deep, cool and enticing. Still and quiet beneath its glassy surface. He was dressed as any gentleman would be for riding and stifled by his clothes on such a warm day. He halted among the weeping willows and looked about. He was alone and unobserved, not that it really mattered. His guests had yet to arrive and the only people in the grounds would be the male servants and they had seen him swim in the pond before. He looked at the house and at the pond.The water would be cool and refreshing, revive him and allow him to cool off before he reached home. He rode further to the edge of the pond, and there dismounted.

Mrs Lillybeck led them along the long, straight gallery. The wall hung with large paintings of the Hale family stretching back hundreds of years, identified by their changing dress and hair. The floor echoed with their tread and the boards creaked. At last she halted in front of a large, modern painting of Derek Hale.

"There......." She gestured to the painting on the wall.

The artist had been accomplished and the likeness was uncanny and his aunt heard Stiles's sharp intake of breath when he beheld it. It was like looking at the flesh and blood man. His aunt and uncle hung back as Stiles took a step closer and gazed up at it. It was a three quarter outdoor view of Derek, dressed much as he always was. He stood with his left arm leaning on a gate, his right arm bent and hand balled on his waist. He did not smile, nor did he look severe. Nemeton loomed large in the background. Like all portraits of the day it was formal and serious, meant to display his strength, power and wealth. All the same it was to Stiles the most beautiful painting he had ever seen.

His aunt gave him some minutes and then stepped beside him."Well, is it an accurate likeness?" She asked quietly.

Stiles dragged his eyes from the portrait and looked at her.

"It is very much his likeness."

Perhaps it was the gentle, breathy way he spoke or the soft look in his eyes but Joyce gave a slow, knowing smile.

"Then I believe Mr Hale to be one of the most stunning men I have ever beheld...."


	8. Chapter 8

Derek walked to the edge of the pond and stripped out of his dark green, tailed riding coat and laid it on the grass and sat down beside it. He undid and took off his white cravat and unfastened the top buttons of his shirt. That was better, he felt as if he could breathe. He popped the buttons on his green and gold striped waistcoat and shrugged it off and lay it with his cravat on top of his coat. Next he pulled free his boots and stuffed his socks inside. He eased his braces over his shoulders and then stood, tugged his shirt from the top of his breeches and pulled it over his head. He tossed it onto his coat. He unfastened the buttons of his breeches and let them pool around his ankles, stepped out of them laying them on his coat with the rest of his clothes.

He was dressed now only in his white, silk long johns unbuttoned to his navel revealing the silk skin of his muscled chest with its mat of fine, dark hair and rippling abdomen.. His cock was clearly outlined but gave him no concern as there was no-one to see. He balanced at the edge of the pond and looked into the clear depths of the water, stretched his arms out before him and plunged forward.

He cut through the tranquil surface of the water with barely a splash. Ducks scattered quacking their disapproval noisily. Cool water enveloped him in its shifting grasp and settled with only surface ripples to show where he'd entered. The water was crystal clear as he swam for some distance beneath the surface reveling in the cool, quiet, darting fish and waving pond weed. He broke the surface more than halfway across and shook his head to clear the water from his eyes and ears. Then he swam to the far side of the pond, turned and swam back, diving once more beneath the surface. He surfaced again near to the spot where he'd first entered the water, shook his head and then floated for several minutes on his back, squinting up at the sky allowing his mind to drift to thought of Stiles. Where was he now? What was he doing?.

The water which had at once been cool and inviting began to chill him and he pulled himself from the reverie which held him and hauled himself out onto the edge of the pond and lay on the bank for some time, letting the heat from the sun warm him. He felt refreshed, clean and he was loathe to pull his clothes back on. Propriety demanded that he at least cover his nether regions and so with difficulty he struggled to pull his breeches over his soaked long johns. He fastened a few buttons but didn't bother with the rest or his braces. For the walk to the house, he was decent enough and it wasn't as if he was expecting to come face to face with anyone but the servants. He pulled on his boots and stood. His breeches rode low on his hips as he picked up the rest of his clothes and decided to walk around the pond and up to the house carrying his clothes over his arm. He set off with his horse walking sedately behind.

Stiles and his aunt and uncle had said goodbye to Mrs Lillybeck and left the house. His aunt was particularly interested in the extensive, walled herb garden and she and his uncle wandered along the meandering paths, stopping to note and admire what was growing there. Stiles was less interested and drifted away from the garden attracted by the pretty situation of the pond. The pond was in fact further from the house than it appeared and the front lawn gently sloped down to it. Much of it was masked by trees, shrubs and bushes at this level. Stiles walked between them and was soon some distance from his relatives. He looked about him and turned back to the pond just as a male figure emerged between the bushes and walked through the tall buttercups followed by a grey horse. 

Stiles stopped dead. His heart seemed to stop and his stomach lurched as the figure materialized into Mr Hale. His eyes went large and very round, the gentleman might as well have been naked! The soaked silk of his long johns was near enough translucent and clung to his form like a second skin following the curves and dips of his muscled chest. Where they were unbuttoned the smooth skin of a taut abdomen glistened with water. His hair hung in a damp, untidy riot of dark curls and waves. Wet breeches clung low to his slender hips and tightly at his crotch, revealing that he was indeed well endowed, braces dangled over his thighs. Stiles knew he should turn away, but he couldn't. The sight held him mesmerized. He made a small, guttural sound and at once Derek's head jerked toward him and he stopped dead. Could it be? Was he dreaming? Was the object of all his desire and longing standing before him? Was he really blinking at him owlishly and tuning a delightful if somewhat alarming shade of puce?

"Stiles?" He croaked out in amazement.

"Mr Hale!" Stiles squeaked out a shocked reply.

"I........I........" Derek stammered stepping nearer, hiding his crotch with his clothes. "Had no idea anyone was here."

Stiles gazed fixedly. When had Derek's eyes become so green, his hair so black, his shoulders so broad, his chest so muscled or face so handsome? Where had those muscles come from? _Oh God help him,_ Stiles stomach fluttered, body washed with heat and eyes lowered.

Derek stepped within reach and dropped his voice to a gentle, questioning murmur. "Stiles, are you quite well?"

Stiles raised his eyes to his face and Derek held his breath at the soft, glazed shyness he saw in them. Stiles lowered his eyes again to Derek's chest and watched as a glistening jewel of water ran down from his throat, following the soft curve of his muscles as it meandered languidly through the hair on his chest. Stiles's eyes tracked it. Instinctively Derek didn't move, didn't make a sound for fear of alarming the boy. He held himself still, prayed silently and was rewarded.

Stiles almost as if in a dream stretched out his right hand. Time stopped, the world held its breath as his finger tips barely brushed the glistening skin of Derek's chest. The barest touch of Stiles's fingertips set a warm shudder through him, Derek closed his eyes briefly and choked back a moan. 

Stiles gasped as a tingle of excitement raced from the tips of his fingers, up his arm and rolled through his body. He would have quickly pulled his hand back then as the realization of the impropriety of what he was doing dawned, but Derek was quicker. His free hand covered Stiles's and held it lightly in place against his chest.

Stiles's eyes flicked up quickly, questioningly to Derek's. "You are all wet." It was an obvious statement made on a gust of breath.

"I swam in the pond." Derek replied in a voice like silk. Heat radiated steadily outward from Stiles's hand pressed to his skin.

"Oh." Stiles turned his head to look at the pond. It was so obvious and yet such a revelation. "It is a pretty pond."

"It is." Derek replied never taking his eyes from Stiles. He didn't care how or why the boy was there, he was just grateful he was.

For a moment Stiles stood and gazed into Derek's eyes and then his eyes flickered and the spell seemed broken. He tugged at his hand but Derek held it fast against him.

"I did not expect to see you Sir," Stiles gave a tug, " we understood all the family was from home or we should never have intruded." He tugged.

"I am, that is to say I was." Derek tightened his hold on Stiles's hand. "I came ahead more than a day of the party.We are not expected until tomorrow or the next day." He smiled. "Pray excuse my manners, your parents are in good health and your sisters?"

"Yes," Stiles nodded, " they are Sir, thank you." He tugged hard and staggered back as Derek released him.

Quickly Derek snaked out a hand to steady him. "I am pleased to hear it." He paused a moment. "How long have you been in Derbyshire?"

"This is our fourth day." Stiles replied.

"Where do you stay?"

"The Bull in Lampton."

"Oh," Derek nodded, "of course. It is a good Inn."

"It is Sir, very comfortable."

"Well, I have just arrived myself." Derek nodded and swallowed. "And your parents are in good health and your sisters?"

Stiles smiled that Derek seemed flustered and at the repeated question."Yes Sir, very well." his voice held gentle amusement.

"Stiles! Stiles!" His aunt called out to him. "Where are you?"

Derek's eyes narrowed at a female voice not Stiles's mother's or any of his sister's. 

"Who calls out to you?" he frowned.

"My aunt, I am holidaying with my aunt and uncle." Stiles explained.

Derek nodded suddenly alarmed by his improper dress. 

"Forgive me I am not attired for visitors."

"Stiles!" His aunt sounded closer.

Derek glanced quickly in the direction of the voice.

"I must go." He held his arms wide. "I am improperly dressed."

Stiles nodded in agreement and Derek bowed, Stiles inclined his head and Derek stepped away and then turned back.

"Do not leave," he urged, "I............ I would meet your relatives. I will change and come out to you." There was a quiet desperation to his tone.

"Sir I think that we must," Stiles protested mildly, "we are intruding on your privacy."

"Nonsense," Derek cast an anxious glance to where Mr and Mrs Cajos appeared, "stay," he urged,"promise me."

Stiles didn't answer.

"Do not make me come to Lampton for you." he warned mildly.

Stiles's eyes widened a little.

Derek glanced to where Stiles's aunt and uncle started down the gentle incline.

"Damn." Derek muttered under his breath and hurried away to enter the house by the side entrance and avoid Stiles's relatives. He moved so quickly that the horse trotted behind his master to keep up.

Stiles blinked after the quickly disappearing figure.

His aunt and uncle trotted down the grassy slope.

"Am I mistaken or was that the great man himself who rushed away?" His uncle asked.

"And every bit as handsome as his portrait." His aunt smiled. "Though a trifle more informally dressed it appeared."

Stiles slapped his hand to his forehead.

"Oh god, oh God........." he groaned. "Whatever must he think of me?" He paced back and fourth in front of his aunt and uncle. He threw up his hands. "We must leave, we must go at once." He started to march back to where the carriage awaited them in front of the house.

His aunt and uncle glanced at each other and hurried after him.

"Why of course, if you wish." His aunt agreed.

"We should never have come, whatever must he think of me?" Stiles groaned.

"Stiles, what happened?" His aunt asked anxiously. "Did he say something to upset you?"

"No, nothing at all of consequence. He made a general enquiry about the health of my parents and sisters." Stiles answered over his shoulder.

His aunt's frown deepened.

"Did _you_ say anything? Was he displeased, annoyed we are here?" His aunt and uncle trotted to keep up.

"No." Stiles groaned. "He did not seem displeased." Anything but, that had been _quite_ clear! He groaned again.

Stiles reached the carriage as the front door of the house was thrown open and Derek bounded down the steps followed by a flustered valet. He fastened his waistcoat as he bounded down, the valet followed with a tailcoat and cravat in his hands.

"Stiles," Derek called from the bottom steps, " you will _not_ leave."

There was authority in his tone and Stiles waited as Derek shrugged into his coat and took the cravat from the breathless valet's hand. The valet went back up the steps.

Derek stepped up to Stiles looping his cravat around his neck.

"Tie this for me if you will please." 

It was said gently enough and by the time they arrived his aunt and uncle were treated to the extraordinary sight of Stiles tying Derek's cravat, whilst he buttoned his coat. 

His aunt smiled happily, they looked so _right_ with each other.

For a moment the two men gazed at each other and then at the crunch of gravel Derek turned toward them and nudged Stiles gently.

"Will you do me the honor of introducing me?"

"Oh, yes of course," Stiles nodded. They stepped up to his aunt and uncle. "Mr and Mrs Edward Cajos, my aunt and uncle. May I present Mr Derek Hale. Edward removed his tall hat. "My sister Lydia stayed at their house in Gracechurch Street earlier this year." Stiles added.

Derek gave no indication of reaction to the information and gave a low bow to Joyce, she gave a graceful curtsey in return.

"Delighted to make your acquaintance Ma'am...... Mr Cajos." 

To Edward's surprise Derek pushed out his hand grasped his and pumped it up and down enthusiastically. Both Edward and Stiles were amazed.

"I hear you are staying at The Bull in Lampton?" Derek continued releasing his hand.

"Yes Sir," Joyce answered, "I grew up in the village."

"A delightful place, I know it well." Derek smiled. "I remember running from Nemeton to Lampton as a boy almost daily in the Horse Chestnut season....." He looked thoughtful. "There was one very fine tree I remember..."

"On the village green, near the Smithy." His aunt prompted with a smile.

Stiles blinked. Could this be the same proud, taciturn Derek he knew in Hertfordshire and Kent?

"That is the very one." Derek laughed lightly. "Did Mrs Lillybeck show you the house?"

"Yes indeed Sir, Mr Cajos smiled, "she was most gracious, though we should never have presumed if we had known you were at home."

"Nonsense, you are most welcome and she is a dear lady who loves showing off the house.... Do you fish at all Mr Cajos?" Derek asked casually.

"Why yes Sir I do, when I get the chance."

"Then I insist you come and fish here during your stay Sir, if you have time." Derek nodded. "There Trout in the river," he gestured, "Pike and Tench in the lake and Carp in the pond. If you are without rods I have plenty spare and tackle, you are welcome to use them and I would be pleased to show you the best spots myself."

Stiles's bow knitted and he made a small sound. Who was this man who was kindness, politeness and ease?. All eyes turned to him and Derek stepped closer to Stiles with a smile.

His aunt saw the move, if his uncle did not.

"In fact, you were not thinking of leaving were you?" Derek frowned. Now he had Stiles here, he was loathe to let him go.

"We would not intrude Sir." Edward responded.

"Not at all. In fact if you have time I would be most pleased to show you now and the gardens at the rear of the house." He looked between Stiles and his aunt and uncle. "Perhaps you would stay the rest of the afternoon?"

"Sir, you are too kind......" Edward began.

"We would love to stay, Mr Hale, thank you." His aunt tightened her grip on Edward's arm. "You have a very splendid house Sir and magnificent grounds."

"Thank you Ma'am. But I cannot take the credit. " Derek protested with good humour. "Mrs Lillybeck and the servants run the house and the gardeners take care of the grounds. I merely enjoy as you, the fruits of their splendid work."

To hell with it....Stiles let his mouth fall open and he stared in astonishment at Derek.

"I'll show you now if you have a mind, the walk is very gentle." Derek coaxed. He stepped away from Stiles and pointed the directions out Edward.

His aunt took Derek's place and caught Stiles's arm and whispered.

"Close your mouth dear, you look like a dead fish.... Can this be the proud, arrogant, disdainful and presumptuous Derek of which you spoke? He is charming, all friendliness, kindness and ease. No falsehood at all."

Stiles's mouth snapped shut and his eyes mirrored his confusion. "I am at a loss to explain it." He shook his head. "I cannot think what has happened to bring about this transformation."

His aunt gave a knowing smile. "Can you not?"

She stepped away as Derek took her place and they set off, Derek walking beside Stiles. His uncle stepped after them immediately but Joyce pulled him back and made him wait until Stiles and Derek were some little way ahead before they followed.

Stiles and Derek's shoulders brushed as they walked ahead. Derek adjusted the cuffs of his shirt somewhat nervously.

"Please allow me to express my apologies for not receiving you properly and startling you by the pond just now." His voice was low and dragged over Stiles like silk glove.

Stiles glanced at the man beside him and smiled. "You did not startle me." He corrected. 

Derek smiled to himself as he spoke. "Oh but forgive me, I think I did." One eyebrow arched in amusement.

Stiles felt his cheeks grow warm as he remembered putting his hand to Derek's chest. "Perhaps," he conceded quietly, "just a little." He paused a moment. "You _were_ half dressed." He added, a smile ruffling his mouth.

"Touche'," Derek chuckled. He looked about. "I hope Nemeton pleases you?" He asked with a killing casualness.

Stiles turned his face toward Derek with a smile curving the corners of his mouth. "It is very splendid," Stiles nodded, "the house, the grounds. It is all so................."

"Oh no! Dear me!" The distressed cry came from his aunt following. They spun around and Stiles hurried back to her and Derek followed.

"Joyce my dear, whatever is the matter?" Edward asked his wife anxiously.

"Aunt?" Stiles's features were marred with concern.

"You are unwell Mrs. Cajos?" Derek added leaning toward her.

"No Mr Hale, no....Nothing at all of that nature. Forgive me alarming you." Joyce smiled and patted Edward's hand. "I am quite well, but have just remembered that I have left correspondence at The Bull of a most urgent nature."

A look of confusion crossed Edward's face.

"It requires a reply and I regret I _must_ attend to it immediately."

"But my dear..." Edward smiled.

Joyce deliberately stood on Edward's toe. He grimaced but had learnt over the years it indicated his compliance with what she said.

"I am _most_ sorry Mr Hale but we must leave immediately and return to Lampton."

She noted that Stiles's face fell as well as Derek's.

"Are you sure?" Derek questioned.

Joyce looked at him pointedly.

"Forgive me of course if you have to leave....." He cast and almost desperate look at Stiles.

They walked back toward the waiting carriage.

"I am really most sorry Mr Hale, your kind invitation too." Joyce looked distressed.

"Think nothing of it Mrs Cajos." Derek replied with gracious tightness. "It cannot be helped and perhaps we can arrange another time whilst you are in the district?"

They reached the carriage.

"Why yes of course Sir." Joyce cast a look at Stiles. "If you have a mind Sir, there is no reason why Stiles should not stay."

Derek's eyes lit up and Stiles glanced between Derek and his aunt.

Derek grasped Stiles's elbow lightly.

"I should be _delighted_ ," he looked at Stiles, "will you stay?"

A vaguely sensuous light passed between them and Stiles gave a soft shudder of excitement.

"I, I.............." He stammered.

"It would be a shame to go away on no account dear," his aunt prompted, "after Mr Hale's gracious an invitation. We can send the carriage to pick you up and return you to The Bull later."

"There is no need Ma'am. My carriage will deliver Stiles to you safe and sound, you have my word. " Derek smiled. 

"Umm I,,,,I...." Stiles started to protest nervously...

"It is most kind of you Mr Hale." She bobbed and Derek inclined his head.

Edward looked bemused.

"It is settled then." Derek gave a disarming smile. "Stiles shall stay the afternoon."

Edward made to help his wife into the carriage but she rejected his arm and reached for Stiles.

Stiles stepped forward, offered his arm and helped his aunt into the carriage whilst Mr Cajos said goodbye to Derek. She lent in and whispered in his ear. "You are safe with Mr Hale. Stay as long as you wish, it is not as if we do not know where you are." She gave a a slow, secret smile.

Stiles pulled back with a grateful smile.

His uncle climbed into the carriage and Stiles closed the door. Moments later the carriage clattered down the drive. Joyce leaned from the window and her heart sang at the sight of Stiles waving goodbye standing next to Derek, the brunette's eyes fixed on him. She settled back against the seat and smiled at a befuddled Edward.

Stiles watched the carriage disappear from sight around the curve of the drive. He glanced at Derek. He was gazing at him with what? A tender look in his eye? A roll of excitement and fear passed through him. He was abandoned, left alone with a man whom he had vowed to hate, but could not. Anyway that was a different man, not the one who now stood beside him all kindness and ease. And it was not so very far to walk back to Lampton. He walked into Mereton from Beacon three or more times a week in the Summer and back, a round trip of more than six miles. Strangely the knowledge did not quell his trembling heart nor the excitement he could not explain.

"Shall we continue our walk? There is much I would like to show you." Derek smiled and gestured in the way they had previously walked. 

Stiles nodded and they walked side by side. Derek made no pretence of keeping distance between them and pressed his side close to Stiles so that their shoulders, arms and hips each brushed the other as they walked and despite the ample width of the path, Stiles made no move to give way.

"So you were saying...." Derek picked up their previous conversation. "You are not displeased with Nemeton?"

"No indeed, not at all." Stiles quickly answered.

"There is no item you would wish changed?" Derek pressed."The decoration or furniture, the layout of the gardens or the plants used? Anything?" There was an earnest look on his face and in his questions. "I am not beyond making changes."

"No." Stiles shook his head surprised by being pressed so hard. "It is all perfect. I do not see how anyone could be displeased with Nemeton."

Derek gave a satisfied smile. "So you could see yourself living here quite happily?"

Stiles's footstep faltered and Derek slowed. "I mean of course in general." He added quickly."You approve of the place, there's nothing you would see changed?"

Stiles heart pounded and stomach fluttered... Live here? At Nemeton, with Derek? "In general....or particular I approve most strongly and would change nohing." Stiles answered quietly a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Good!" The sudden, happy exclamation made Stiles's eyelids fly up. "I mean," Derek began quickly, "your good opinion is not easily won and therefore more highly prized."

Stiles had perhaps wished for a different answer but settled for replying with a quiet. "Thank you." 

They walked on to a short flight of shallow, wide stone steps and went up and continued to walk.

"I, I feel I must apologise again Mr Hale for intruding on your privacy. Mrs Lillybeck assured us you would not be home until tomorrow or the next day." Stiles apologised again.

"Please, think nothing of it." Derek assured him. "I traveled from London with a small party of friends and my sister Cora." He sighed. "Progress by coach was slow and I have some business to settle with my Steward so I rode on ahead and told no-one of my plans. Mrs Lillybeck was as surprised as you to see me. I must make amends there I think." He added thoughtfully."At any rate there is no blame to be attached to any but myself."

Stiles halted and looked at Derek anxiously. "I am keeping you from your Steward?"

"Not at all," Derek gestured for him to walk on. "There is time enough for me to speak with him. It is not an urgent matter."

Urgent enough to cause you to ride ahead, Stiles thought quietly.

"Umm," Derek hummed, "there are those in the party that comes after that would claim an acquaintance with you."

"Oh?" Stiles looked at him questioningly.

"Mr Parrish, his sisters and Brother-In- Law."

"Oh!" Stiles could not hide his surprise.

"Yes." Derek confirmed. "And there is another in that party would wish to make your acquaintance."

"Really?" Stiles cocked his head a little in interest.

"My sister, Cora."

"Miss Hale?" Stiles blinked.

"Yes, it seems I have mentioned you frequently." Stiles's eyebrows rose in speculation. "She is quite anxious to make your acquaintance at the earliest opportunity........I wonder could I presume on your good nature and extend an invitation to yourself and Mr and Mrs Cajos of course; that whilst you are in Lampton I arrange a time when you may dine with us and be introduced?"

"Oh yes," Stiles nodded. "I should be delighted to meet Miss Hale. As will my aunt and uncle." He quickly added.

"That is settled then, I will arrange a time to fit in with your plans." Derek nodded.

They came to that part of the path that went between the trees. Tall branches canopied the path giving it shade and seclusion. Another path branched from the main and looped around the side of the house. At Derek's direction they followed it to the rear of the house and entered the large and formal gardens by a side entrance.

Stiles gasped in awe at the sheer size and magnificence of the gardens, They stretched from the lawn back as far as the eye could see. There must have been every shrub, bush, plant that Stiles could name and more that he could not. 

It put Eichen House to shame.

It would have done justice to a Royal residence. The flowerbeds were laid out in intricate and precise patterns. The bushes cut into wonderful shapes, not a weed in sight or leaf out of place. Pathways meandered through the garden and bypassed tall statues, small fountains, ponds and leafy bowers. In the distance there was a small maze. Down one side of the garden ran a tall, thick hedge perhaps six or seven feet high.

Stiles stared around in admiration. "It is beautiful, magnificent." Stiles was lost for words.

"It is," Derek agreed. "It was the passion of my father, he designed the layout of some of the flowerbeds himself." From his tone Stiles got the feeling Derek was not impressed.

"It is not to your liking Sir?"

"I like it well enough." Derek smiled at him."It takes ten gardeners and fifteen under gardeners to look after the formal beds, bushes, fountains and whatnot alone. Ten more under gardeners tend the lawns. I suppose I am prejudiced. As a child I was forbidden to play here and only carefully upon the lawn. I grew up preferring the semi wildness and complete wildness of the parkland." He gazed at Stiles.

Stiles nodded.

"But come, I want to show you something I believe you will like."

They walked lowly along the path, Derek pointing out the flowers and plants as they walked and heading toward the tall hedge. To Stiles the hedge was probably the most unremarkable aspect of the garden and yet Derek made for it. They walked along its length for some way and then Derek stopped.

"Here, here it is."

Stiles peered and was astonished to see a green painted doorway obscured by the leaves of the hedge. Derek grasped the handle and it grated as he tuned it, The door gave under his push. The hedge in fact grew against and masked a tall, stone wall of a large, walled garden. Longer than it was wide. Stiles followed Derek, ducking as he passed through the doorway and then stopping dead.

Derek held the door as Stiles looked around. His jaw dropped at the sight he beheld. It was best described as cultivated _chaos_. Gone were the precise beds of the formal garden to be replaced by a higgledy-piggledy hotchpotch of wild flowers and cultivated. It was obvious the garden _was_ tended, there were no actual weeds but the flowers had run wild in a riot of colour. Roses climbed the walls with Sweet Peas, Foxgloves grew next to Lupin, Daises, Buttercups and Lady's Finger grew everywhere. A palette of Nasturtiums carpeted the ground along with Hearts Ease, Birds Eye and Lilly Of The Valley. Honey Suckle grew amongst the roses, the noise of bird song was almost overwhelming. The scent from the flowers was trapped by the walls so that the air hung thick with their fragrance. Bees hummed and butterflies performed an intricate ballet among the flowers on jeweled wings. Stiles was entranced, enraptured.

Derek closed the door and observed the look of wonder on Stiles's face and in his eyes. His heart shuddered at the sight.

"I played here most often as a boy." He began. This garden was my mother's. My father had it created for their first anniversary, it was as much hers as the formal garden was his." He sighed. "It was not that she did not care for the garden beyond, but she loved the semi wildness of this place, the colour, the birds and insects. She would sit in here for hours in the Summer and paint the flowers or the butterflies, or just sit in one of the bowers and read or write her correspondence."

"It is _beautiful."_ Stiles voiced at last.

"I used to splash around in the small pond yonder." He gestured. "It's not very deep and has no fish but frogs and newts breed there."

Stiles followed the gesture to a small stone bordered pond not quite in the centre of the garden. It was hard to imagine Derek as a small, dark haired boy, splashing in the pond but did not seem so unlikely after their earlier encounter. Stiles smiled to himself and rather wished he could have seen the small boy. 

"Theo Raeken and I used to hide in here when we didn't want to go to our lessons. My Tutor grew so frustrated looking for us." Derek reminisced idly.

At the mention of Raeken Stiles tensed. "So not all the memories of him are bad?"

Derek's face darkened and his mouth pulled into a thin lipped smile.

"He fooled us with his pleasing manners and gracious ways, myself perhaps most of all." His voice and face hardened.

Stiles fiddled with the buttons of his jacket and cleared his throat. "Mr Hale......" He began tentatively.

Derek held up his hand to stop him. "I wonder may I presume to ask you to call me Derek?" 

"Oh," Stiles felt a warm glow roll through him, "of course Mr Hal...... Derek." He agreed tentatively.

"May I continue to call you Stiles?" Derek asked, his voice washing over Stiles, "as your family and friends seem to?"

Stiles felt a delighted tingle in the pit of his stomach.

"Yes," he answered more breathlessly than he meant to, "I should like that very much."

Stiles opened his mouth to continue but Derek continued to speak, ushering him all the while in the direction of a wooden bench. It was set back in an arched lattice work of wood, covered with honeysuckle and pink and white climbing roses.

"The manner of your name is both charming and unusual. May I enquire how you came by it?" He gestured to Stiles to take a seat upon the bench and they sat together.

"There is no great mystery to it." Stiles smiled. "My given name is Mieczyslaw and as a child it was found that I could not or would not pronounce its whole length, nor any of my siblings. It was Lydia first called me _Stiles_ I liked it and it just stayed with me." He explained with a shrug.

Derek nodded. "I thought it some such, but it pleases me." His warm gaze met Stiles.

For a moment Stiles was, still, silent. The heady, almost cloying fragrance of the honeysuckle and the roses was oddly soothing and clamed his racing heart. His face grew serious. "Derek, you must allow me to offer you my deepest and sincerest apology." He kept his eyes downcast as he spoke.

"Must I?" There was a slight amused tone to Derek's voice and a raised eyebrow.

Stiles's eyes flew up. "Oh yes," he nodded, " I think you must. "I was greatly in error about your part in Mr Raeken's downfall. In that regard you are without blame. When I think of the things I said." Colour suffused his cheeks. "I am ashamed. Lydia warned me against taking his word on so short an acquaintance. The man is nothing short of a deceitful scoundrel."

"Mmm." Derek made a small, unhappy sound. "I judge you without blame, though wished you had asked me directly."

"Our level of acquaintance did not permit it." Stiles answered miserably. "Whatever must you think of me?"

"That you have a kind heart that might easily be taken advantage of by a man like Raeken." He reached out and took Stiles's hand. Stiles looked into his face in surprise but made no attempt to pull his hand away. "I think Raeken most gets by in this world by taking advantage of good people such as yourself. I can hardly blame you for being deceived when my family and especially _myself_ were cruelly deceived by him for years." There was a lbitterness in his tone.

Stiles looked at him curiously, Derek sighed.

"I told you in my letter," he began to explain, "we grew up together as boys and were most like brothers. He is possessed of that easy disposition and open manner which makes it easy to go among strangers and charm them. 

I do not. 

I am not by nature a gregarious man and as a child was painfully shy. My father used to despair of me. It was impressed upon me from a young age that it was my _duty_ to go into society and an obligation to my family."

Stiles looked at him sympathetically. It was hard to imagine the proud and arrogant Derek as shy.... The man who sat beside him ...That was a different matter.

"I covered my discomfort," Derek continued, "by being reticent and uncommunicative. I made certain my behaviour was impeccable so that it should not be a source of amusement to others or embarrassment to myself. Even now I can count upon the fingers of one hand those I would term my _friends_ and those with whom I am really comfortable even less. Parrish and Deucalon would be two." He dropped his voice and used the fingers of his free hand to brush a lock of Stiles's hair from his eyes. The feel of Stiles's skin on his fingertips set a shiver of desire through him, so that he choked back a soft moan. "And I would hope it not too great a presumption after today to also count yourself."

Stiles lips parted and his eyes widened as an invisible web of attraction built between them.

"By contrast Raeken made friends easily, but seldom kept them." Derek tightened his hand on Stiles's and shifted closer. "As we grew up we became....." Here he hesitated for a second and looked into Stiles's eyes, "aware as young men do, of our bodies. I was mortified to find that I was as attracted to male as much as female, if not more so. I thought myself _deviant_ and was disquieted that my father might find out and that I would be source of embarrassment to my family, censured and outcast by society and even a criminal." He sighed and shifted a little. "Imagine my joy then in the happy discovery that Theo shared my _predilection_. It was inevitable that we grew closer fueled by our familiarity as children. By the age of seventeen we had formed an..... _alliance_....."

The look of confusion in Stiles's eyes indicated his lack of comprehension and Derek waited with bated breath for that moment when the confusion cleared. "I have not the happy circumstance of understanding you." Stiles frowned.

Derek's grip tightened."We became _lovers_ / Stiles."

"Oh....lovers?" Stiles choked out on a whisper.

"I hesitate to use that word. It implies we were in love, which we were not. I firmly believe that what fondness there may have been between us was more, I am ashamed to admit, on my side than his. Though he made a great show of feeling for me." 

Stiles hummed in sympathy.

"I heard the odd rumour about his behaviour but dismissed it as idle gossip and jealousy over his position in our family. At eighteen we went up to Cambridge and were lodged together." He gave a heavy sigh and his face and voice hardened. "From the start his ways were those of drunken idleness and gambling and I began to suspect there was truth in the rumours. Within three months I had final proof of his dissolute ways before me. One day I came back to our lodgings unexpected and found him there, bedding a maid." 

Stiles gasped.

"The young woman was anxious to leave but Raeken made her stay until he was finished with her. I quickly learnt this behaviour was not unusual. I sought new lodgings the next day and severed my attachment to him. My father continued to support Reken and although our distance toward each other puzzled him, he never questioned it. That is how I met Parrish he lodged near me. "

Stiles's eyes went comically wide and he began to pale.

"No, no, God no!" Derek was quick to reassure him. "Parrish does not share my predilection nor Deucalion, but both know of it and although they do not profess to understand it, they are supportive and tolerant. Shortly after I sought new lodgings, Raeken was almost sent down over a scandal involving the young boy who blacked the boots. It was only my intervention saved him. I did it for my father who continued to think much of him until the day he died. After my father's death I would not suffer Raeken to remain at Nemeton. I paid for his lodgings in Lampton and gave him a generous allowance. That went on until the living became vacant and he refused it............. The rest you know." Derek paused and studied Stiles's face. "Now I only regret that I was so easily deceived and of what my feelings and actions might have been."

Stiles listened intently, drawn in to the sad narrative Derek told. He could only imagine what a cautious, reserved man like Derek felt at Raeken's betrayal and subsequent cruel use of his sister as an instrument of vengeance.

His brow creased and his eyes clouded with confusion.

"But Miss Hale and Miss King............"

"Raeken goes where his fancy or hopes of wealth take him." Derek remarked bitterly. "Man or woman it makes no difference to him."

"Oh," Stiles thought rapidly........ "Is, is that why you were annoyed when you thought I took too much interest in his affairs?" He asked tentatively.

Derek again tightened his hold on Stiles's hand. 

"I thought perhaps he had designs upon more than just your friendship, yes." He confirmed.

"Oh, but no," Stiles quickly refuted, "nothing of _that_ sort passed between us. I was merely sympathetic to his plight. With no need it turned out."

"I am relieved to here it." Derek smiled."May I hope that you acquit me of crimes against Mr Raeken?" He asked with mild amusement.

"Regarding that crime, I find you have nothing to answer for." Stiles ducked his head.

"And yet I feel I am not totally acquitted of the crimes you laid at my door." Derek asked curiously.

Stiles's eyes flicked up to his questioning face. "Regarding my sister and Mr Parrish.."

Derek sighed. "It pains me that I appear the cause of so much distress to your sister and my friend. But I put it to you Stiles, that I have not heard or seen anything that would make me think your sister's partiality to Jordan as great as his to her."

"You are in error." Stiles stated firmly. "I believe Lydia loves him very much."

"If that is true," Derek scowled, "then I have done them both a great disservice and would attempt to make amends."

"You base your belief on what you saw. .... Lydia is both shy and retiring by nature." Stiles gestured. "She has to be coaxed to reveal her innermost feelings to her own family, her parents, sisters.... me." He gave a frustrated sigh. "Even Scott has remarked on it saying she needed to display her partiality for Mr Parrish more vigorously. She would no more display partiality in society as she would........ Dance naked!" He huffed.

"Heaven forfend!" Derek chuckled.

"You are laughing at me!" Stiles pouted.

"Never _at_ you, _with_ you I would hope?" Derek ducked his head and looked into Stiles's eyes, Stiles's lips twitched. "I think it far more likely that your youngest sister would besport herself so, not it is to be hoped Miss Lydia."

Stiles's lips curled up into a smile.

"Nevertheless," Derek looked serious, "it appears I have greatly misjudged and mishandled the situation."

"It would seem we have _both_ made grave errors in judgement." Stiles said solemnly with a nod.

"One I would hope not too late to correct." Derek mumbled thoughtfully.

Stiles studied the man beside him. Make amends? How? Why? His other objections to the match were unaltered. Lydia was still far below Parrish in status, wealth, family and connections.

"Your other objections to the match remain unchanged." Stiles reminded him sadly.

"Ah, yes well I am inclined to think I may have overstated the case a little. " He smiled at him."I am not saying _love conquers all_ but that it may provide the strength and will to overcome other issues." He rolled his eyes. "Or endure them."

Stiles felt a wave of eager affection roll through him.

" _Who are_ you?" He asked with a questioning frown.

Derek replied with a frown of his own.

"You are not the proud, arrogant and disdainful man I met in Hertfordshire," Stiles gave a gentle shake of his head. "You are not even the man who asked me to be his Companion in Kent and catalogued my unsuitability so eloquently. " His face softened. "You are all kindness and ease, no false pride or dignity.

"I could say the same of you. You are not the stubborn, sharp tongued youth of Hertfordshire," Derek replied, "nor the prejudiced, prickly hedgepig of Kent. Offended because I spoke the truth and would not flatter you with falsehoods and instead told of my struggles _not_ to love you."

Stiles scowled.

"Though I admit," Derek hurried on, "I _could_ have put things a little better."

Stiles's eyebrows rose."A hedgepig?"

Derek snorted. "You incline towards being prickly."

Well, Stiles had to admit that he did....Sometimes - and Derek had given him just cause. 

"I once said that we neither of us _perform well for strangers_ I believe that to be a truth." Derek continued earnestly, taking Stiles other hand so he held both.

Stiles raised his eyes to Derek's and saw a heart rendering tenderness there that robbed him of his breath and filled every fibre of his being with eager anticipation.

"May I venture to hope Stiles, that the man who sits with you now pleases you as much as you please him?"

"He does." Stiles whispered.

Derek pressed close. "Would it be too much to hope that perhaps you might look more kindly upon my offer?"

Stiles's heart beat erratically. Derek radiated a vitality that drew him like a magnet and electrified the air around them. Stiles lent forward his hooded eyes concentrated on Derek's lips. "Were you to make it again, my answer would not be the same." He whispered.

Derek's lips gently slanted over his mouth and sent shivers of desire racing through him and he moaned softly.

Derek kissed slowly, deliberately. He gave Stiles time to pull or turn away, but he didn't. It was wrong, all of it. He was too young, his family too low and that dreadful mother made Derek shudder, but it felt so _right_ and his feelings had nothing to do with reason.

He loved him.

It was a simple truth. A fact of life and if he felt like a predator, was he not just as much Stiles's prey?. He'd tried not to love him and failed. He could not and would not live without him. Nemeton was a good distance from Beacon and they need not visit nor be visited too frequently. As for the rest it was just details that he could deal with.

His tongue traced the softness of Stiles's lips, pleasure and desire spiraling through him as his lips parted and he explored the silky recesses of the boy's mouth.

Stiles was shocked by his eager response to Derek's kisses and he pushed into them. He felt a dizzying euphoria which he partly put down to all his blood rushing to his groin. His flesh prickled and he felt drugged by Derek's virile maleness. The kiss robbed him of his reserve, his reason and ignited a shocking desire that ran through his body. And suddenly it crashed over him almost as if it came from outside and suffused the very core of his being......

He loved Derek.

Completely, utterly, shockingly, frighteningly. The raw knowledge of this one undeniable fact robbed him of the ability to breathe, to think. Almost unconscious of his actions he pressed into Derek's body, half clambered onto his lap and Derek lifted him into the circle of his arms.

He felt Stiles trembling against him. Their hearts thudding, in their chests. Drugging kisses that made them pant and sent spirals of desire blazing through them, the blood pounding in their ears and throbbing in their cocks. He was rock hard. Never had he desired, _wanted_ so much in his life as now. His heart soared as he felt Stiles's hard length press against his thigh and knew beyond doubt his feelings were mirrored.

Stiles's world spun as Derek kissed him harder, his lips burning with desire. He felt his hand slide along his thigh and Derek swallowed his gasp as his hand cupped his groin and squeezed. He moaned and pushed his hips forward his cock straining against his tight pants. 

 

Derek flicked open the buttons of Stiles's pants with the fingers of one hand. He distracted him from his intent by dragging wet, open mouthed lust-arousing kisses in an exploration of his jaw and throat and then claimed his mouth in a blistering assault. His free hand caressed the small of his back. He let the front flap of his pants fall. He snaked his hand inside. Stiles wore no underwear but curled his shirt under his cock. Derek tugged the material free and Stiles's hot, hard flesh seemed to jump into his hand.

 

Stiles gasped and trembled as he was held in strong, slender fingers.

 

"Shushh." Derek soothed him. 

 

His voice murmured close to his ear, his breath puffed on the outer shell. 

 

"Trust me." Derek coaxed. A rough huskiness betraying his own arousal.

 

Stiles's lips were already parted and pushed wider by the press of Derek's in a new kiss. Nerve endings tingled right down to his cock and it twitched and throbbed held in the brunette's hand.

 

Derek felt Stiles tremble under his touch. He was scared, probably wondering and afraid. His own body hummed with the anticipation of release. He stroked the silky length of Stiles's cock slowly, gently from the glistening, protruding head to the root easing back the foreskin. The boy was very close and almost certainly had no control. A few hard strokes and he'd erupt. He was hot, hard and heavy in his hand. The vein on the underside pulsed in time to the thud of Stiles's heart against his palm. He kept stroking, all the while kissing him and using his free arm to support him and pull him hard against him. He rubbed his own cock against Stiles's thigh and allowed a groan to fall from between his lips. Stiles grasped Derek's shoulders as his fingers curled around his flesh tighter and his strokes became firmer, faster.

 

Passion pounded the blood through Stiles's heart, chest and head. His hips moved back and forth, pushing himself into Derek's grip. His body's impatience grew to explosive proportions, Derek's touch sending him to levels of ecstasy hitherto unknown. He soared higher until the peak of delight was reached. Derek swiped his thumb over the rosy head and Stiles was drowned in a floodtide of sensation that liberated his mind and body. His cock pulsed out ribbons of cum as waves of ecstasy crashed through him.

 

It was pure, explosive pleasure.

 

He gulped in soul-drenching drafts of air as his trembles died away and he sagged and melted against Derek.

 

Derek held him tightly, ignoring his own aching need. He pressed his face against Stiles, stroking the back of his neck and head. He felt a dampness on his cheek and realised he was crying softly.

 

"It is all right, you are safe with me." Derek said quietly, his breath gusting against his ear. "Cry all you want."

 

And he did. 

 

For a long time they just sat and held each other tightly as Stiles composed himself under Derek's gentle touch and words. The master of Nemeton not so old or jaded that he didn't remember the intense, overwhelming feelings that finding release with another man for the first time produced.

 

After some time Derek eased him back onto the bench, hissing as he did so. His own cock throbbing and pressed against the front of his breeches. Stiles leaned back on the bench, satiated, eyes heavy lidded as Derek tucked him away and fastened his buttons. Then he cupped the back of his head and drew him forward for a long, sweet kiss.

 

Derek sat back, obviously uncomfortable and unbuttoned his breeches allowing his tumescent and inflamed cock to tumble out. He looked up at Stiles's gasp but saw that far from being embarrassed his eyes were wide and black, fixed on his cock. It was long, thick, hot and heavy. It pulsed against his palm already slick and dribbling pre-cum from the slit. He reached for Stiles's hand and drew it to his cock. Stiles curled his fingers around the hard length, making a small sound and licking his lips subconsciously as he did so. Derek's hand covered his and he encouraged him to stroke him. He was close he had been close for a long time and this was no time for gentleness and finesse.

 

Gripping Derek's cock felt like the most natural thing in the world. Stiles concentrated and allowed Derek to show him what to do, noting what made the brunette pant and moan. Derek stripped his cock quickly, showing Stiles how to pump and twist his wrist. Their hands found a steady tempo.

 

Stiles's cock twitched.

 

They moaned and groaned. 

 

At another time, in another place they would be naked now, wrapped in each other's arms. Greedy hands making harsh demands and giving vent with cries of passion. 

 

Derek's breath became harsh grunts. He pumped faster, his hand still covering Stiles's and he dug his nail into the slit and shattered into a million glittering shards. He gave a sharp cry as his release painted their still entwined hands and his body jerked shuddered. For moment he lounged back chest heaving, eyes clouded, unfocussed as he fought the lethargy that swept over him. He felt sated, content.

 

Stiles could only stare in awe.

 

Several minutes ticked by before they cleaned off their hands with handkerchiefs and Derek tucked himself away and adjusted his dress. They spent time sitting on the bench enjoying the perfume of the flowers and the closeness of each other. All awkwardness between them was gone, although Stiles was still shy in accepting and showing affection and protested when Derek pulled him into a kiss as they walked around the pond in view of the servants.

 

"It is a foolish master believes he keeps secrets from his servants .It is not possible." Derek warned sagely. "Far better to employ good servants not given to gossip or judging the actions of others."

 

Stiles's eyebrows rose in amusement.

 

Derek caught his look.

 

They laughed and walked arm in arm toward the house.

 

Stiles stayed for afternoon tea and Mrs Lillybeck registered both surprise he had not left with his aunt and uncle and delight that he had stayed behind.

 

It was arranged between them that as soon as the party arrived on the following day Derek would fetch him from The Bull and he would introduce him in private to his sister. If they were delayed they would spend the afternoon together and on the next day Miss Hale would definitely be there. Stiles had to confess that he was eager to meet her, though he could only guess at what Derek had told her about him.

 

Toward six the small carriage was sent for and Derek insisted on accompanying Stiles back to The Bull. Stiles protested loudly that he would come to no harm and that the journey was a needless inconvenience for Derek. In the end Derek was persuaded to see the sense of it.

 

He saw Stiles into the carriage and bid him a goodnight and assured him he would see him the next day. The carriage moved off and Stiles hung from the window and waved to Derek until he was out of sight and then sat back into his seat and hugged himself with pleasure.


	9. Chapter 9

Stiles could barely eat his dinner his stomach was so tied in knots. His body still thrummed with the excitement of his first sexual encounter with Derek. Although he had not _exactly_ renewed his offer to him first voiced in Kent, he could not see how he would fail to do so. Probably after he had made the acquaintance of Miss Hale. And his heart felt as though it would burst at the thought of replying _yes_ he would be his Companion and love him his whole life with all his heart.

He didn't know he was smiling broadly as he chased his food around his plate. His aunt observed him surreptitiously from under lowered lashes. She was aware from his happy, excited demeanour and loss of appetite that something momentous had happened but was too polite to ask. If Stiles wanted to tell her he would. His uncle ate on totally oblivious.

In fact the person Stiles most wanted to tell was Lydia. Not the details never that, but that he had fallen in love with Derek Hale and he believed he felt the same. He wanted to tell her he was not at all as they thought. He was kind and thoughtful, patient and not at all proud and arrogant and to Stiles eye the most perfectly handsome man there ever was.

He couldn't sleep and alternated between sitting at his writing desk and composing a letter to Lydia containing his stupendous news and the window seat. He watched the moon drenched street and gazed up at the black sky, silver moon and twinkling stars. He imagined Derek asleep at Nemeton. Would he be naked or would he wear a nightshirt? His mind conjured up a picture of moon soaked skin, tanned and smooth, a relaxed handsome face and black hair on a white pillow. The steady, even, rise and fall of a muscled chest with a fine carpet of crisp, dark curls, long limbs sliding restlessly against silken sheets, a flat, rippling abdomen and down to a thatch of wiry hair and a limp, plump cock lying at rest against one thick thigh.

Oh my!

He was shocked to find his imagination so fertile and his own cock so easily aroused. He chuckled softly and wondered idly if Lydia ever had such thoughts about Mr Parrish? He couldn't imagine it or rather he didn't want to.....That Mr Parrish ever had such thoughts about Lydia was an altogether different matter.

That he slept more than an hour altogether was doubtful and was up and about shortly after his aunt.

He sat and completed his letter and prepared it to take to the post later in the morning. In the end he was not so forthcoming about developments with Mr Hale. After some thought it occurred to him that it was most likely Lydia would be prevailed upon by his mother and sisters to read the letter out aloud for their mutual enjoyment and information. He could think of nothing more embarrassing than the revelation he had an affectionate partiality for Mr Hale. Instead he merely noted that he was in residence and Nemeton being only five miles from Lampton they had met on friendly terms and left it at that. For the rest it was generalities about his trip and the kindness displayed to him by his aunt and uncle. He would reveal more to Lydia in private when he returned home.

They ate breakfast together and then his aunt and uncle revealed plans to visit the nearby Market Town of Ashby and visit a particularly fine stone church there. Stiles made his excuses saying although he was distressed to miss the outing he was expecting Mr Hale to call and manners dictated that he remain. His aunt and uncle understood perfectly and said they would return from their outing in the early afternoon. If he were gone with Mr Hale he had merely to leave a message with Hannah so that they knew he was not _spirited away_. 

Stiles took up position in his bedroom window with a book to read and watched out for Derek's arrival.

By ten thirty there was still no sign of the brunette and Stiles was growing restless. He did not doubt that he _would_ come, even if the party were delayed and did not arrive today he would keep his promise and they would spend time together. His eyes kept being drawn to the letter on the desk and he was anxious to see it on its way.It would not take him above twenty minutes to deliver it to the Postmaster and return to the inn, surely even if Derek did arrive in that time he would wait?

He resolved to do it and on the way out of the inn instructed Hannah that should anyone call for him, she was to request they waited and he would be back directly. He hurried through the cobbled streets in the direction of the Postmaster's Office.

As is inevitable in such matters, Mr Hale _did_ arrive during Stiles's brief sojourn. As he hurried back from his mission he was attracted by Hannah leaning out from and upper storey window and shouting to him.

"Mr Stilinski! Sir. Hurry. Your visitor's are come. Mr Hale and his sister and another gentleman. They are waiting in the parlour."

Another gentleman? Miss Hale! "Please tell them I come to them directly." He replied. Hannah ducked back inside and he hurried to the inn and straight to the parlour.

Stiles pushed open the parlour door to discover Derek sitting in a seat just inside. He vaulted to his feet the moment Stiles entered his clear green eyes humorous and tender, his mouth pulled into a broad smile.

"Stiles." His name rolled easily off his tongue.

Stiles gave an answering smile, his stomach fluttering. "Derek." he nodded.

Derek stepped up to him.

"She would not be delayed and wanted to meet you at once. You do not mind?" He added anxiously.

"No of course not." He answered through his smile. And became aware of a movement further in the room, behind Derek.

A young woman moved away from looking out of the window. She was tall and slender and wore a pale blue coat over a white dress and a pretty matching blue bonnet.

Derek moved aside and she stepped to him.

" Stiles may I have the honour of introducing my sister Cora to you."

She was beautiful. Peaches and cream complexion, clear, dark eyes and wisps of dark brown hair escaped from under her bonnet.

"Cora, my dear," Derek continued, "may I present Mr Stiles Stilinski."

She gave a serene smile and dropped a graceful curtsey as Stiles bowed deeply from the waist. "How do you do, Sir." She spoke with a clear, melodious voice. 

"I am most honoured and pleased to meet you Miss Hale," Stiles replied with a shy smile. "I have heard a great deal about you."

"And I about you." She answered quickly, with a glance to her brother.

"Mr Parrish is here with us and desires very much to see you again. He insisted on accompanying us." Derek gestured. "He waits next door, I wonder if I may be permitted to bring him in?"

"Mr Parrish........ " Stiles grinned, "yes of course, please bring him in."

Derek nodded and turned, leaving to fetch his friend.

"I understand Miss Hale that you are fond of music and play _very_ well?" Stiles engaged Cora in casual, polite conversation.

"Oh no," she blushed a little, "that is I _do_ love music but do not play _very_ well. I should dearly like to hear _you_ play, my brother has told me that your playing gives him great pleasure."

"Me?" Stiles's voice squeaked and eyes widened. "He did? It does? That is to say your brother greatly exaggerates the case. No doubt for some mischief of his own," he added with a frown,"I hardly play at all and very ill." He protested.

"Oh no," Cora stepped toward him an earnest look on her face. "That cannot be so. Derek _never_ tells anything but the exact truth as he understands it. Sometimes I think he is too honest and always too kind to me."

"An ideal elder brother perhaps?"

"Oh yes." Cora's face softened."I could not imagine a better or a kinder one."

For a moment Stiles was lost for words such was her obvious affection for the man he loved.

"I must admit, you make me feel quite envious. I have a younger brother and am possessed of three sisters. One older and two younger." Stiles stated easily.

"I should have _dearly_ loved a sister." Cora responded. "Perhaps I will be presumptuous and borrow yours." She laughed.

_Oh God, Erica! Allison!_ Stiles almost panicked at the thought!

"Stiles!" Mr Parrish strode into the room ahead of Derek an expansive grin on his face. "I cannot express my pleasure at seeing you again." He advanced on him. "I could scarcely believe it when Derek told me you were only five miles from Nemeton!" He bowed. "How d' you do."

"Very well thank you Sir," Stiles bowed back.

"Good, good. Excellent." He glanced momentarily at Cora and then back to Stiles. "And your family, they are all well?

"Very well Sir."

"Yes?" His eyes widened and he lent forward a little. "Pray tell me if you will, are _all_ your sisters at Beacon?"

"All except the youngest, she has gone to Brighton for the season." Stiles revealed.

"Ah, Brighton....." He gave Cora a longer look and she bobbed and walked back to where Derek stood and whispered to him. "It seems too long," Parrish continued, " it _is_ too long since I had the pleasure of speaking to you."

"It must be several months." Stiles agreed.

"Not since the evening of the Lake House Ball."

"That is it Sir, you are right." Stiles nodded.

"You know I cannot recall a happier time than those short months I spent in Hertfordshire......"

"Stiles?" Stiles looked toward Derek. "My sister has a request to ask of you."

Cora walked to him and ducked her head shyly.

"Mr Stilinski, my brother and I would be _honoured_ if you and your aunt and uncle would be our guests for dinner at Nemeton. Would tomorrow evening be convenient?"

Stiles's eyes slid to Derek's smiling face and back.

"Thank you," he nodded and smiled, "we would be delighted. I can answer for myself and my relatives, we are without prior engagements."

"And will you be prevailed upon to play?" Cora coaxed.

Stiles gave a narrow eyed glance at a grinning Derek.

"Perhaps." He answered cryptically. "Perhaps."

 

After dinner they adjourned to one of Nemeton's five large, comfortable drawing rooms. Derek sat at one end of the of the long, cream, brocade sofa, Mr Cajos at the other. A smile played around the corners of his mouth, his pale eyes fixed on the two people he loved most in the world. 

Stiles and Cora sat at a piano and bickered quietly over the piece Stiles would play. He had resisted Derek's entreaties and demands to play, even his aunt's begging but when Cora said that if he would play she would sing, he could not refuse. To have done so would have been to appear ill mannered and churlish. Mrs Hamilton and Miss Parrish occupied the short red and gold, brocade chaise and Mrs Cajos occupied a nearby chair. Mr Hamilton lounged half asleep in another chair and Mr Parrish occupied a yet further chair near Mrs Cajos. They all waited expectantly except Mr Parrish's sisters. They gave each other tight-lipped glances and Kate rolled her eyes as they waited for Cora and Stiles to begin.

Just as Derek sensed the impatience in the room and was about to chivvy them along, consensus was reached between them and a not too difficult piece was chosen. After a false start and Stiles profuse apologies which made Cora laugh, he began to play and Cora sang.

She had a sweet, melodious, though not powerful voice. Stiles played with few errors, but little artistic interpretation and the exercise was completed without either party coming to much grief. Everyone listened avidly except Mr Hamilton who snored and the sisters who tutted quietly and rolled their eyes over every error. None listened more closely than Derek nor clapped so vigorously or praised so loudly. Kate Parrish looked at him curiously and then questioningly at her sister.

"Will you not play again?" Cora cajoled. "You played that so beautifully."

Stiles snorted. "Now you are being kind. I did not play it well and not at all artfully. Your beautiful voice masked my worse errors and I fudged and fumbled my way through the difficult bits. Please do not make me repeat the exercise," he begged, "it is a shame to ill use such a beautiful instrument with my playing."

"It is beautiful." Cora agreed. " Derek has given it to me. He is so good and kind." She glanced to where Derek sat and watched them with a smile. "I do not deserve such kindness."

"Oh, but I am sure that is not true." Stiles's smile broadened. "Your brother obviously believes you deserve it." Stiles looked directly at Derek, their eyes met and his heart turned over in response. His voice dropped to a velvet murmur. "And as you know, he is never wrong."

Cora looked between the two men, their eyes locked on each other. Moments past and then Stiles shuddered and turned to her. 

"Your turn," he stood.

"Oh," Cora stepped back.

"I absolutely insist." Stiles gestured to the newly vacated stool.

"All right," Cora answered tentatively sitting down, "I'll play but please, no more singing." She implored.

"No singing," Stiles agreed.

They decided a piece between them, Stiles set the music up on the stand and Cora began to play. He left her and began to cross to the sofa to take up position between Derek and his uncle and brushed by the chaise with the two Parrish sisters.

"Master Stiles," Kate gave a tight lipped smile and leaned toward him. "Pray do you know.....Are the militia still in Mereton?"

Stiles halted. "No ma'am, that is they have left and are spending the Summer encamped in Brighton."

"Oh," Kate let her face fall."That must be a _great_ blow to your family." Her voice edged with false sympathy.

Stiles shot a look at Derek, the brunette had lost his smile.

"Indeed so Ma'am........ But we are endeavouring to bear the deprivation as best we can." His voice held a sliver of sarcasm that made Derek's mouth twitch.

"I should have thought one gentleman's absence," she broadened her smile, "might have been most keenly felt?" 

Stiles frowned. "I cannot think of whom you speak?"

"I seem to recall you had a partiality for the society of Mr Raeken?" Kate smirked.

Three things happened at once. Cora's head jerked up and her playing faltered, a look of fury crossed Derek's face and he started to his feet and Stiles snapped back a harsh reply. "You are grievously mistaken Ma'am."

He wheeled and was back at Cora's side in a trice, Derek hesitated and resumed his seat and glared balefully at Kate. "Forgive me," Stiles said gently to Cora, "I am neglecting you and left you to play with no-one to turn the music."

Cora looked up gratefully and smiled as Stiles adjusted the music and she began again. He continued to stand by the piano as Cora played. His eyes slowly lifted and Derek smiled at him gratefully.

Cora surreptitiously looked between them and smiled.

 

Derek, Cora and Mr Parrish saw them off in a small carriage. Derek gazed after them long after Mr Parrish had taken Cora's arm and walked her back indoors. In fact he stood until the carriage was quite out of sight.

Cora retired for the evening but Derek followed Parrish into the drawing room and poured them each a glass of port from the crystal decanter.

"I could not help but notice how very ill Stiles Stilinski looked." Kate lent forward. "He is quite altered since the Autumn."

"Oh yes," Jennifer agreed, "quite altered."

"So brown and coarse..... Jennifer and I agreed that we should hardly recognise him." Derek was pointedly ignoring her snide remarks. "What do you say Mr Hale?"

He crossed to the mantle and leaned on it. "I must confess I registered no real change in him. " He sipped his port. "He is I suppose a little tanned, hardly surprising when one travels in Summer and enjoys the outdoors as much as he. I cannot say I found it _unattractive_."

Kate stood and poured herself a sherry. "I have to confess I never saw anything attractive in him." She held her glass in both hands, one above the other. "His eyes are too big, his hair too shaggy and unruly, his smile is tolerable I suppose though nothing out of the ordinary."

Derek sat on the sofa, his mouth drawn into a narrow, tight, humourless line as he listened to her catalogue Stiles's perceived _faults_.

"His skin lacks brilliance and his nose," Kate gestured with her glass, "far too short." She sniggered. "As for his eyes which I sometime have heard called _fine_ ," she looked pointedly at Derek, " _I_ could never perceive anything extraordinary in them." Derek made no reply, but Parrish scowled. "He is altogether possessed of an air of self-sufficiency without fashion which I find _most_ disagreeable.

"Well I think............" Jordan began.

"I was most surprised in Hertfordshire," Kate cut him off, "to hear him considered a _handsome_ young gentleman and at least some of his sisters tolerable beauties... I most recall a remark by yourself Mr Hale when I said they were considered beauties and _you_ said you would as soon call the mother a wit!" She and Jennifer snickered in unison. "But after he seemed to grow on you and you found his company more tolerable." She looked at Derk slyly.

Derek stood and refilled his glass, brushing by her. Kate turned to face him. "Yes, I admit I did." Derek put down the decanter. "That was some time ago and with greater acquaintance it has been some time now that I have considered Stiles to be," his voice rose and hardened ruthlessly, " _the most handsome and agreeable young man of my acquaintance."_ He glared straight at Kate.

Kate's face tensed, paled and she lowered her eyes.

Derek gulped back his port and set the glass down heavily. "If you will excuse me, ladies, gentlemen, I'll say goodnight!" He turned on his heel and walked out, leaving a stunned room behind him.

 

Derek couldn't sleep, he didn't even attempt it. He did not undress above removing his cravat and coat and loosening the top most button of his shirt. He waited till sometime after the house was quiet and still, grasped a candle and prowled the corridors and hallways with a stealthy tread. At length he made his way into the drawing room where Stiles had played earlier in the evening. He lit several candles from the one he carried and then set it down on a table and leaned against the mantle, chewing his thumb and lost in thought. He turned toward the piano and saw an image of Stiles there playing and standing giving him heated looks and gentle smiles. 

Damn him! He looked so _right_ as though he _belonged_ there and as far as he was concerned, he did. He would go this very second and renew his offer to him and rejoiced in the feeling that it would be accepted, but there were other considerations not least of which was Cora. 

His sister's education was all but at an end. She would of course remain mostly in London with Deucalion and his mother Lady Agnes, that would give her access to London society and the best chance of making a worthy match. And indeed she had come to look on Lady Agnes almost as a mother. He would continue as now to divide his time between Nemeton and the City and hopefully Cora would visit Nemeton often. The question was what impact, if any would his taking a male Companion have on Cora's chances of marrying well? On the face of it, very little. Certainly it was not unknown for men in his position to have male companions, even married men. As long as they were discreet and it did not impact on their business and family life they were tolerated, even accepted. Were Stiles more his social equal there would be very little said, but he was not and that raised a problem.

Certainly there were parts of society would reject them out of hand simply for being the same sex, but that was quite small and hardly worth considering. A larger part would reject them because of Stiles lack of class and connections but when he thought about it, what did it matter? He never cared much for society anyway, his friends would accept Stiles with open arms, Deucalion, Parrish and one or two others. In time it was likely Stiles would be accepted, after all society had always needed him rather more than _he_ needed it.

For the most part his family would accept his decision. He had always been considered something of a _rogue_ element, but as the wealthiest of them all he was more or less free to do as he pleased. Deucalion would have no objection, nor likely his mother, he hardly saw Deucalion's elder brother and the old Earl had been dead some time. 

The biggest problem was Lord Peter, he could and _would_ make objections. He was second to him in wealth and as a titled gentleman, social and political power. He had long maintained that an arrangement of sorts had been made between Derek's mother and him when Derek was only a child and Malia a baby, that they would marry. Such arrangements were common, aimed at the purity of blood lines and more importantly the consolidation and preservation of wealth and property. This it seemed had been kept a secret between them, even Derek's father never knew of it and his mother never mentioned it to him. His mother died when Cora was born and he was twelve. He and Malia had never gotten along even as children. She always appeared pre-occupied and _other wordly_ , seldom spoke or joined in games. There was no denying she was a rare beauty with an ethereal quality about her but she held no attraction for him and she showed no partiality toward him. In fact the only person she responded to at all was Deucalion and he confessed being _fascinated_ by her. As far as he was concerned no arrangement existed but in Lord Peter's mind.

But he was determined to see it brought to fruition.

Thankfully his influence in London society was little due to infrequency of attendance and Malia never having been _presented_. Nevertheless he could and would make things uncomfortable and unpleasant, at least for a time.

Then of course there was Stiles's family, particularly the dreadful mother and youngest sister. He chuckled to himself, he _must_ be in love to even _think_ of taking them on. He gave a philosophical shrug, the fact was he _was_ in love and so he would.

Thus his mind was resolved. At a decent hour in the morning he would ride alone to The Bull and there renew his offer to Stiles that he share the rest of his life as his Companion!

 

He was able to get a few hours restless sleep punctuated with images of Stiles and sadly a rerun of his earlier rejection. He rose early and spent the time before breakfast composing the speech he would make to Stiles and driving the thought of Stiles's previous harsh words from his mind. He was confident that this time he would be accepted with smiles and hopefully hugs and kisses, if perhaps nothing more. At length he joined the others for breakfast and then left them to their morning activities.

His valet helped him dress. Boots, breeches, white silk shirt and green and gold waistcoat and brown riding coat with tails. He was impatient and waved the valet away and fussed over his own white, silk cravat. He looked at himself in the mirror, he was unsatisfied but it would have to do he could waste no more time. He hurried to the stable where his gray horse had been saddled and by ten thirty he was cantering toward Lampton and the rest of his life.

 

Stiles completed his breakfast. Derek had made no mention of seeing him today, but he was confident he would. Probably he would take him back to Nemeton to spend time with the party. He looked forward to more time with Cora and Mr Parrish, if not the others. He had expressed his hopes of a visit to his aunt and uncle and they had therefore decided to spend the day in Lampton. It was not a big village and Hannah could soon summon him should Mr Hale arrive or indeed it would be simple enough for Derek to locate them himself. They shrugged into their coats and prepared to leave to walk to the pretty village green. There they would view the duck pond and his aunt had promised to point out the Smithy and Horse Chestnut tree Derek had loved as a boy.

Hannah stopped them and gestured toward Stiles. "Your pardon Mr Stilnski, but two letters have just arrived for you Sir." She held out the letters to Stiles and he took them from her.

"Thank you Hannah, I am much obliged." Stiles smiled as she bobbed and went about her work.

"Good girl, that." His uncle commented casually as Stiles inspected his letters.

"They are both from Lydia." he frowned. "I wondered that she did not write, but there, look," he held the letter out to his aunt, "it has been redirected," he shook his head, "she wrote the address very ill." 

His aunt nodded.

He looked at the second letter and his frown deepened. "They were written but a day apart, what can have happened to require the writing of two letters in so short a time?" He looked at his aunt and uncle."Would it be too much to ask that you go ahead and I join you when I have read my correspondence?"

"Of course not." His aunt smiled. "Join us when you have a mind to, we will be at the green or there about."

Stiles watched them leave, took off his coat and made himself comfortable in a chair in the parlour and read his first letter.....

_My Dearest Stiles,  
I hope your sojourn into Derbyshire is all that you anticipated. We continue to be well and comfortable at Beacon but miss you very much. Our father feels your absence most keenly I believe. We are yet to hear anything from Erica and mother chides her quite vigorously in her absence and complains that her nerves are quite torn to shreds._

"Poor mamma." Stiles mumbled out aloud with amusement.

_She spends much of the day above stairs in her room or closeted with our aunt Martin ._

_Oh Stiles, since writing the above something has occurred of a most serious and unexpected nature. But I am afraid of alarming you._

Stiles leant forward and peered intently at the letter.

_Be certain that we are all well. What I have to relate concerns poor Erica._

"Erica?" Stiles groaned.

_An express letter came at gone midnight last night for our father. We were all abed and the household was roused in alarm and confusion. It came from Colonel Harris and informed us that Erica was run away to Scotland with one of his officers, in truth with Raeken. Mother was in near hysterics and I never saw such a look of shock on anyone's face as was on father's. We were all surprised except Allison and it must be concluded she knew something of the events._

_I am so very, very sorry, so imprudent a match on both sides. But I hope for the best, and that perhaps his character has been misunderstood in some way._

Stiles gasped, a feeling of hopelessness and despair washed over him.

"Oh Lydia," he muttered, "I fear it is not so."

_His choice is disinterested and least, for he must know Erica is without fortune and that our father can give him very little."_

Stiles nodded. "At least that is true. But how could he _do_ this? She is fifteen and silly enough to do anything. But Theo _love_ Erica? _Marry_ Erica?" He shook his head. "I cannot see it." He drew a deep breath and continued reading...

_"We expect them soon returned from Gretna man and wife. But I must conclude as I cannot be away from mother long. I shall write again the instant we have news._

_Your loving sister,  
Lydia._

He quickly opened the second letter....

 

_My Dearest Stiles,  
I hardly know what to write. I have bad news. As imprudent as a marriage would be we now fear that it has not taken place. Indeed it now appears that Raeken never planned to marry poor Erica at all._

"Dear God!" he blurted. "I knew it!"

_"I cannot believe so ill of him._

"I can!" Stiles growled. "Poor Erica, poor _stupid_ girl!"

_Colonel Harris pursued them as far as Clapham and there lost sight of them. He says he now fears that Raeken is not to be trusted and that they are hidden somewhere in the City for there has been no trace of them beyond. Our father has gone to London to join the Colonel and search them out. I must entreat you to return home at once dearest brother in the hopes that uncle Cajos will join the search._

_Your loving sister,  
Lydia_

Stiles folded the letter, gasping in draughts of air to quiet his thudding heart. 

"Yes of course, we must go home at once, I must find my aunt and uncle." He muttered aloud as he got to his feet.

Just as he reached the door it swung open and Hannah had time just to announce him before Derek entered wreathed in smiles. Stiles felt a momentary flash of joy and then the hopelessness of the situation washed over him.

"Stiles I........" Derek stopped at the grief stricken look on Stiles's face. This was not the reaction to his presence he was hoping for.

Tears stung behind Stiles's eyes, it was all so hopeless. As soon as Derek knew he would have no choice but to abandon him. He and his family indelibly tainted by Erica's display of wanton, thoughtless and imprudent behaviour.

Derek tossed his riding crop into a chair and grasped Stiles's hands. "My God Stiles, what is it? Are you unwell? Shall I send for a physician?" Concern marred his face and thickened his voice.

"I beg your pardon, I must find my uncle at once on urgent business that, that cannot be delayed. There is not an instant to lose." His bottom lip quivered and tears glistened in his eyes.

"Good God, whatever is it?" Alarm coloured Derek's voice and he gripped his hands tighter. "I would not detain you for an instant, but let me go or I'll summon the girl to dispatch someone. You are in no state......."

"I must!" Stiles made to push by him but Derek caught his biceps in a powerful grip.

"No!" Then more gently. "I _insist_." He pushed him into a chair."You are not well enough to go." He turned his head. "Girl! Girl!"

"Hannah, her name is Hannah." Stiles told him quietly.

"Hannah! In here at once!" Derek shouted.

There was the sound of running feet and the door flew inwards.

"Mr and Mr Cajos must be fetched this instant!" Derek stated firmly.

Alarmed, Hannah nodded vigorously.

"They are to be found....." Derek looked questioningly at Stiles.

"They will be found on The green or thereabouts." Stiles added quickly.

Hannah bobbed. "I'll go myself." And she was gone in a swirl of skirts.

Derek sat opposite him and once again took his hands and leant toward him. He took in Stiles's alarmingly pale face and distressed air. "You are not well, may I not send for the doctor?"

"No, thank you I am well." Stiles assured him.

"Is there nothing you can take to bring relief? Can I get you a port or something stronger?" He felt so impotent faced with Stiles obvious grief. "Please, you are very pale."

"I am not ill." Stiles smiled weakly. "I, I am merely shocked by the receipt of some dreadful news," he drew a deep shuddering breath, "from hom........" He ducked his head and his shoulders shook.

Derek released one hand and gripped the other more tightly. He pressed his fist to his mouth fighting the urge to just gather Stiles into his arms and soothe him, concern clouding his eyes as he waited for Stiles to talk to him.

Stiles took a deep breath and jerked up his head. 

"Forgive me, whatever must you think of me?"

"No, no." He took Stiles's hand again.

"Such dreadful news cannot be concealed from anyone, indeed it will soon be common knowledge. My youngest sister, Erica," Derek tensed, "has left all her friends and her family,"he looked up at Derek, "has _eloped_ , has thrown herself into the path and power of.... _Mr Raeken_."

Stiles watched as fury replaced concern on Derek's face and then it became impassive and his eyes cold, emotionless.

"They have run away together from Brighton. You know him too well to have any doubt as to the rest." Stiles continued his heart inside him breaking as he saw the disgust in Derek's eyes. "She has no money, no connections, nothing that can tempt him into marriage and therefore I must conclude it is an act done purely out of wickedness and malice. I cannot hope as Lydia does that genuine affection plays any part."Derek gave an annoyed, frustrated grunt and stood turning from him and paced the room. "And to think that I might have prevented it. I who knew of Raeken's true character and did not warn of it. Had I done so father would never have allowed Erica to go to Brighton and his society would have been shunned." Stiles gasped and hung his head, blaming himself. He looked up at Derek's straight, tense back. "But it is all too late now, it is done."

"I am grieved indeed, grieved and shocked." There was a thick, harsh tone to Derek's voice as he fought to control his temper. It would be so easy to blame Mr Stilinski's want of control over his daughter and the mother's lack of propriety and the folly in letting Erica go to Brighton but perhaps he bore some of the blame? Had he not sought to keep his name and Cora's free from scandal he should have cast what Raeken was abroad and everyone would have known him for what he was. And who bore the blame for Cora? She was well brought up and yet had fallen prey to Raeken. 

He turned toward Stiles.

"But are the facts certain? _Absolutely_ certain?

"Oh yes,," Stiles replied, "certain. They left Brighton together on Sunday night. Colonel Harris pursued them as far as London but no trace beyond. They are certainly not gone to Scotland."

"And what has been done to recover them?" Derek queried with a sharp gesture. "To bring her home?"

"My father has gone to London to join Colonel Harris in the search and Lydia asks that we return home immediately so that my uncle can join them."

Derek crossed to the window and looked out, his face tense and cross.

"I hope that we shall leave within the hour." Stiles concluded.

 

Derek turned to face him with a heavy sigh.

"But what can be done?" Stiles implored and then answered his own question with a shake of his head. "I know very well nothing can be done. How is such a man as he with no conscience or morals to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? She is ruined and lost to us and the whole family must partake of her ruin and disgrace."

Derek looked at him in intense, in unmoving silence.

A cold shudder rolled through Stiles and all hope of a life with Derek dissolved. "There is no hope." He added in a broken whisper.

Derek drew a deep breath. "I am afraid you have long been desiring my absence."

A wave of nausea rolled through Stiles and he briefly shut his eyes.

"I regret that this unfortunate affair will prevent myself and my sister from enjoying your company at Nemeton today."

"Oh, yes. " Stiles smiled weakly. _Or ever again_ he thought sadly. "Please give Miss Hale my deepest apologies and wishes for her good health and happiness." He swallowed hard. "If you would be so kind as to say urgent business calls us home and conceal the unhappy truth as long as possible, I would be most grateful. I know it cannot be long."

Derek's mouth was a grim, straight line. He gave a perfunctory nod. "You may be assured of my silence. None will hear of this tragic affair from me." He picked up his riding crop from the chair. "But I have stayed too long. I shall leave you now."

Stiles's eyes welled with tears, he did not see the ones glistening in Derek's eyes. He got to his feet. "Yes, I _understand_ you. Thank you for all your kindness toward me." Stiles bowed.

Derek bowed.

"Goodbye." Stiles choked back the tears.

Derek spun on his heel, opened the door. He stopped and looked back at Stiles with a sad longing and then stepped through, closed the door and left his life....."God bless you my sweet Derek, I shall never see you again."

 

They were packed and the coach made ready within the hour and as they stepped from The Bull, his aunt turned to him.

"But even if what you suspect of Raeken is true I still cannot believe this of Erica."

"Ever since the militia was stationed at Mereton," he spoke through gritted teeth, "there has been nothing but love and wanton flirtation and officers in her head! Her behaviour has been giddy and full of impropriety which father did not check."

"Be not so harsh Stiles." His aunt soothed."It may yet turn out to be a mistake, a falsehood or a passing folly that her friends can cover up and will in time be forgotten."

Stiles shook his head. He'd seen Derek's face.

"Aye, listen to your aunt, Stiles." His uncle advised with good humour. "Why would Raeken form a design against a young lady of little means and with friends, family and by no means without protection? One that was staying with his own Colonel's family? Look at it how you like," he helped his wife into the carriage,"the temptation is not worth the risk."

"Not perhaps of risking his own interest but I do believe him capable of risking everything else." Stiles replied bitterly.

 

 

That evening in the drawing room at Nemeton Derek leaned back in his chair and his mind raced, filled as it had been with thoughts of Stiles and how to help him. Cora sat at the piano and played. Jordan sat in a chair near her, the Parrish sisters occupied the chaise and Ennis snored in another chair. They clapped as Cora finished and Kate helped herself to tea.

"You are very quiet and preoccupied this evening Mr Hale. I hope you are not missing the company of Master Stiles Stilinski?" She snickered.

"What!?" Derek snapped. "Oh, do shut up you stupid woman!"

Kate dropped her cup and Jennifer gasped.

Derek vaulted to his feet and strode from the room.

Cora and Jordan gave slow smiles and Ennis snorted.

 

 

The carriage drew to a halt at the foot of Beacon's steps and Stiles was out before it settled and run up the steps as the door was flung open and Lydia embraced him.

"Thank goodness you are here." She helped him shrug out of his coat.

"Is there news?"

"There is none. We had a letter from father to say he had arrived safely and joined Colonel Harris but nothing since. Now that uncle Cajos is here we hope that progress will be made."

"And mother?"

"She has not left her room since this business began. She has asked for you continually since day break."

Stiles studied his sister. "You look pale and tired. How much you must have had to bear."

"I am so very pleased to see you Stiles." She handed his coat to Hill. "Come mother will be anxious to speak to you."

His aunt and uncle followed them upstairs and into his mother's room. Isaac and Allison already attended her.

Mrs Stilinski was in her cap and night dress and lace dressing gown and laid prostrate upon the chaise. She held her hand out to Stiles.

"Oh Stiles," she whined, " I am so very pleased to see you, you too brother." She held her hand out to Edward and he kissed it and sat upon a stool by his sister's feet.

"And you dearest sister." 

Joyce smiled and stood beside Stiles and Lydia. "Well here's fine how d' you do. I blame Mr Stilinski for not taking us all to Brighton so this could not have happened and those Harris's. There was a great neglect on their part, for poor Erica is not the girl to do this sort of thing if she is _watched_.

"Mamma!" Stiles chided.

"Do not mamma me!" She dabbed her eyes dramatically with a lace handkerchief. "Mr Stilinski is gone to London and he will find Mr Raeken and then he will fight him and be killed. And then the Daehler's will turn us out before he is cold, " she wailed, "and what will become of us if you do not show us charity dear brother?"

Edward nodded. "Do not take on so Claudia, calm down nothing dreadful will happen." He grasped her outstretched hand. "I will be in London by morning and there we shall meet and consult over the best way to proceed."

"Yes, yes," she eagerly agreed, "search them out and if they be not married, _make_ them. But above all prevent Mr Stilinski from fighting."

"But mamma, I do not think father means to fight." Lydia shook her head.

"Oh yes, yes he does!" Claudia exclaimed."And then Raeken will kill him for sure, unless you prevent it brother. Or take Stiles and make him fight Raeken. If he is killed it is not such a great loss."

Lydia and Stiles looked at one another. Stiles could feel the love!

"Do not look at me like that Stiles! I am in a state, I have such trembling's and fluttering's and palpitations all over my body!" Claudia gestured wildly."My head hurts, I have such pains that I can rest neither night or day! And tell Erica to give no direction over wedding clothes brother, until she sees me for she does not know the best warehouses." She collapsed back with a sob.

 

Derek wrote to his solicitors in London and instructed them to hire private detectives to seek Raeken out and that one be dispatched to Ramsgate to question Mrs Young and ascertain her part, if any in the affair. After another day he decided to go to London himself and making the excuse of urgent business and left the party and Nemeton in Jordan's charge and made for London, traveling as quickly as possible.

 

The next afternoon Stiles made his way into the drawing room, having seen Lydia go that way and found her gazing sadly out of the window. He closed the door and joined her.

"There is more to this than I have yet been told?" He asked gently.

Lydia raised her eyes. "A little."

"Was there no suspicion of what was happening before the elopement?"

"Colonel Harris admitted that he saw some partiality on Erica's side and that Mr Raeken was receptive. Mrs Harris assured him it was harmless flirtation and politeness on Raeken's part and so he dismissed it." She paused. "I cannot help but feel partly to blame, I urged you not to disclose Raeken's character and now poor Erica suffers for it."

Stiles took her hand. "You are not to blame. Anymore than I am or Mr Hale or anyone else a victim of that man's deceit. He is a plausible and practiced liar and his own wicked and immoral character and Erica's foolishness have led to this sad state of affairs."

Lydia reached into the pocket concealed in her skirts.

"She left this note for Mrs Harris." She pulled out the single sheet of paper and handed it to him.

He unfolded it and sat on a chair to read.

_My Dearest Friend,  
How you will laugh when you know where I am gone. I cannot help laughing myself at your surprise tomorrow morning as soon as I am missed._

_I am going to Gretna Green and if you cannot guess with whom shall think you a simpleton, for there is but one man in all the world that I love._

_I beg of you not to send word to Beacon of my going. It will make the surprise all the merrier when I write and sign my name Mrs Erica Raeken. What a joke it will be, I can scarcely write for laughing._

_Your dear friend,  
Erica._

"Thoughtless, stupid girl. What a letter to write at such a time. At any rate it is proof, if proof is needed that she at least believed his intent honourable and they were to be married; whatever he persuaded her after." He looked up. "Our poor father, how he must rue not taking a firmer stand with her."

"He was so shocked." She took the letter and sat beside him. "He could not utter a sound for fully ten minutes and polished his spectacles so vigorously we feared for the lenses. Mother was taken ill with the hysterics and the whole house thrown into alarm and confusion. Lady McCall has been most kind in offering her condolences."

Stiles stood and crossed to the door and opened it. "Better she had stayed home and kept them to herself and gloated over us at a distance!" He said bitterly.

"Stiles! That is unkind." Lydia looked at him in dismay. "I am sure she meant well."

"Perhaps she did. I am sorry, but " he drew a shuddering breath, but don't you see?" He gazed at her sadly.

Lydia frowned.

"More things have been ruined and brought low than just Erica's reputation? He passed through the door and closed it softly behind him...

Lydia hung her head.

 

That night when the house settled to sleep Stiles sat in front of his mirrored dressing table and gazed at his sad reflection in the incandescent glow of candle light. As his mind drifted, Derek's face appeared in the mirror and his words echoed dully in his ears. _'But I have stayed too long. I shall leave you now.'_ He'd all but given up hope of ever seeing Derek again. Footsteps and a soft knock drew him from his thoughts. He pulled his dressing gown around him.

"Come in."

Lydia entered carrying a candle and closed the door behind her.

"Good, I thought you would not yet have retired." She pulled her shawl about her thick night dress and placed the candle on the dressing table and held out her hand to him. "I could not rid my mind of what you said this afternoon."

He took her hand. "Forgive me. I was angry and upset."

"As you have a right to be. I suppose you meant that it is not only Erica's reputation that has been ruined by this awful affair."

"I should not have said it. " He held her hand in his and patted it with his other. "It does no good to dwell on it and dream of what might have been."

"You meant I suppose that I and Allison and Isaac and you too have been disgraced, tainted by association. That our chances of making good matches have been materially damaged by Erica's wanton behaviour and disgrace."

He squeezed her hand. "The chances of any of us marrying well were never very great, now," he shook his head, "I should say they are nonexistent. For myself it does not greatly matter, I have quite made up my mind never to marry, but you, Allison and Isaac....... " He shook his head. "No-one will solicit our society, Mr Hale made that very clear to me."

"Mr Hale? " Lydia frowned. "He is aware of our troubles?"

"Y yes," Stiles answered hesitantly, "he came upon me shortly after I first read your letters."

"You said you had met him in Derbyshire upon friendly terms?"

"Yes..... Oh Lydia he is nothing as I thought. He is all kindness and ease no arrogance or false pride. I thought that I should hardly know him, everyone spoke of him in glowing terms. We dined at Nemeton and I met Miss Hale. She is a proper young lady, accomplished and very pretty and like her brother, all kindness and ease. I liked her and I am sure you would too."

Lydia saw the soft look in her brother's eyes.

"He must think kindly of you I believe to introduce you to his sister and I can see your opinion of him is _much_ improved."

"If only I had taken your advice and not been so quick to condemn him. I confess I think him now one of the best men of my acquaintance. Besides Mr Parrish, of course and Colonel Deucalion." Stiles added hurriedly.

"Stiles," she said quietly. "Did he renew his offer to you he first made in Kent?"

Stiles felt a warmth flush his cheeks.

"He did not, but I believe had not this business happened with Erica, he might well have done."

Her eyes lit up. "Oh Stiles do you believe he still loves you?"

"At this time I confess I do not know what his feelings are. But in Derbyshire........." He ducked his head. "But he left me in no doubt that although he might be able to overlook my status, family and lack of connections and wealth he could not suffer his name or more especially that of Miss Hale, to be tainted by alliance with mine in view of this Raeken business." A bottomless sadness filled his eyes. "He could not quit my sight quickly enough. I cannot find it in my heart to fault him for it, but I believe I shall never see him again."

"Oh Stiles,"she touched his cheek . "This news pains me more than I can express. I am so very sorry."

"He will not be renewing his addresses to me and he will make very sure his friend does not renew his to you." He patted her hand.

"I was quite resolved to the loss of Mr Parrish and have given up all hope in that regard." Lydia nodded sadly. "I only regret that you feel you must now do the same...."

 

Derek arrived in London and wasted no time in consulting with his solicitors and learnt that the private detectives had no news as yet. Throwing caution aside he began to prowl the in the darker side of the City for news, himself. 

 

The small carriage clattered up Beacon's short drive, and it was Allison saw it first.

"Oh no, oh Lord!" She ran to the house and bumped into Isaac making him drop his Bible. "What is it Allison?" Isaac asked as he bent to retrieve it.

"Cousin Daehler. I am _not_ going to suffer his company for anyone! Come and find me when he's gone!" She ran off.

 

They received him in the drawing room. Stiles, Lydia and Isaac trouped in together presenting a united front. Daehler leaned upon the mantle and observed them critically as the stood before,and then sat on the chaise.

"I had hoped to condone with your poor father and mother." Daehler shifted his weight uncomfortably under their united gaze.

"Our father is still in London, cousin." Stiles answered.

"And our mother too ill to leave her room." Lydia added.

"Oh," Daehler straightened and put his hands behind his back, clearing his throat. "I felt it only correct that I should come, not only as your cousin but also as a clergyman and offer my deepest condolences at this most grievous time. How you must be suffering." He shook his head sadly. 

"Thank you Sir." Lydia responded.

"It is often said Sir, that a friend in need is a friend indeed." Isaac added.

Daehler looked at him uncertainly. "Quite so," he smiled thinly. "Be assured that Mrs Daehler and myself sincerely sympathise with you in your present distress which must be of the bitterest kind, resulting as it does from an action which time cannot remove. The _death_ of your dear sister would have been a blessing in comparison."

Lydia felt Stiles tense and grasped his hand lest he struck Mr Daehler.

 

"My dear Lorilee informs me that this licentious behaviour in your sister is not wholly unexpected and stems from a want of correction and overindulgence. Personally I am of the opinion that her character must be naturally bad. However it may be, you are grievously to be pitied."

He paused and thinking he had finished Stiles and Lydia rose to their feet.

"Thank you Sir. We are very grateful for..............." Lydia began.

"In which opinion," he continued, "I am joined by Lord Peter himself and his daughter to whom I have related every particular of this sad affair."

Stiles and Lydia regained their seats.

"They join with me in the apprehension that this false step in one sibling must be injurous to the fortunes of all the others. For as Lord Peter remarked himself. " Who will connect themselves with _such_ a family?"

They were at a loss to answer him and Stiles dared not risk his quick tongue. They watched as Mr Daehler seated himself in a chair opposite, a smug, self-satisfied look on his face. Any good opinion Stiles had been inclined to have for him disappeared entirely and he thought him an odious little man. He jumped to his feet.

"Who indeed Sir?" He said sharply. "Now perhaps in view of that consideration you might feel it _unwise_ to remain now."

Daehler looked thoughtful. "Why yes, yes I do believe that sadly, you may be right cousin Stiles." He got to his feet. "I always feel that a clergyman cannot be too careful with whom he associates." 

Stiles smiled tightly. "Especially one such as yourself Sir,who is so fortunate as to endure the patronage of _Lord Peter."_

"Your thoughtfulness does you great credit cousin Stiles." He inclined his head and backed toward the door. "I am _very, very_ sorry for you all. Pray pass my condolences to your mother and father."

He left immediately. Lydia, Isaac and Stiles saw him off.

"Insufferable man!" Stiles hissed between clenched teeth as they walked toward the house.

"I suppose he means well." Lydia commented.

"Drear Lydia, you suppose wrongly, " Stiles spat heatedly. "His whole purpose in coming was to enjoy our misfortune and congratulate himself upon his narrow escape and happy situation."

"I think you are being mean." Isaac protested. "I think it very kind of him to come and condone with us." 

They turned and waved the carriage away and the moment she heard the carriage clatter, Allison came out of hiding..... "Is he gone?"

Stiles turned with a smile. "Yes, for good with any luck."

Lydia spotted a figure rushing toward the house from the direction of the lane with flapping skirts. "Look it is Aunt Martin, she appears in a great hurry. Our mother will be pleased to see her."

Mrs Martin rushed to them, red faced under her large bonnet. "How now girls, Stiles, Isaac." She breathed hard. "Is my poor sister up yet?"

"She keeps to her room still." Lydia nodded.

"Well, well, the less the servants hear the better I dare say. Let us hurry to her for I bring no glad tidings......."


	10. Chapter 10

Mrs Martin drew up her chair by the chaise. Mrs Stilinski reclined in cap and nightdress and clutched a lace handkerchief.

Mrs Martin lent forward eagerly.

"And scarce a day goes by sister that I do not hear some new, bad tale about Mr Raeken." Her voice was low and scandalised. 

"Oh do not speak to me of that man! " Mrs Stilinski whined. "Mr Raeken that everyone praised to the high heavens." She gestured with her handkerchief. "Mr Raeken that half the town was mad in love with." She tapped her sister's arm and she nodded and hummed in agreement. "And all the time a villain." She pressed on. "A very demon from hell sent to ruin us." She nodded and clasped her hands across her chest.

"I have heard he has run up debts with every tradesman in the village, of _gambling_ debts, drunken routs in which more was broken than heads and furniture," Aunt Martin nodded sagely.

"Oh, sister!" Mrs Stilinski exclaimed and clutched at her bosom.

Mrs Martin lent further forward. "Of debauches, intrigues and seductions!" Her voice rose.

"Oh sister, stop, stop!" Mrs Stilinski entreated...... "Is there more?"

Mrs Martin looked around her to make sure she was not overheard.

"They say there is not an unmarried tradesman's daughter that was not _meddled_ with!" She nodded in confirmation.

"Oh no, no..... Now he _meddles_ with our own sweet girl. Our Erica! The foul fiend. Did I not warn against him? Did I not say his ways were too practiced. Gentleman indeed! Well, he shall be discovered and _made_ to marry her."

Mrs Martin leaned back. "I have to say sister that _I_ never trusted his appearance of goodness."

"Aye, neither did I and warned the girls." Mrs Stilinski nodded.

"Too smooth and plausible by half." Mrs Martin agreed.

"But would anyone listen? Now we are all, _all_ ruined. My poor, poor Erica...."

 

Erica leaned against the window of the small room in the lodging house and hummed quietly gazing into the busy street below. Carts moved up and down and tradesman went back and forth.The occasional carriage trotted by and ragged street urchins played in the gutter. Behind her Raeken sat in his shirt sleeves and totted up his latest gambling losses, it wasn't good.

Erica turned. "When shall we make for Hertfordshire my love?"

He turned. " Come away from the window. We shall go as soon as my business affairs are settled," he turned back to the table, "these things always take longer than you think they will. Have you any jewelry left?"

"Only a pearl pin Stiles gave me for my fourteenth birthday." She answered with a pout.

"You are not unhappy surely?" He cajoled.

"Lord no." Erica grinned at him. "It is just that I cannot wait to see my sister's faces. " She crossed to the bed and straightened the sheet. "Allison will be green with envy, how I shall laugh. I shall be married from Beacon and then both my sisters will _have_ to be bridesmaids and my brothers, groomsmen."

Raeken lifted his head and scowled at her.

"I do wish you'd take me out into the town." She whined and crossed to him running her hands over his shoulders. "So we could be seen at plays and assemblies."

He took a deep breath, her whining was so _irritating_.

"All in good time, be patient." He reached for a bottle of port and poured himself a glass.

"Lord, when I think that I have done what none of my sisters has and I the youngest of them." She grinned.

He rolled his eyes. "Be a good girl and fetch me that pin...."

 

"Mother, mother!" Lydia ran upstairs."A letter has come from my uncle Cajos." She pushed through the door. Her mother was leaning forward eagerly on the chaise. "Father is coming home today."

Mrs Stilinski half rose her eyes alight with hope. "And does he bring Erica?"

"No."

"Aghhh," Mrs Stilinski fell back with an anguished cry.

"He and my uncle have not yet found her out and Colonel Harris has returned to the regiment in Brighton."

"Arhhhh!" Mrs Stilinski drummed her feet. "What good is it if he comes home? Who will seek them out and make Raeken marry her?"

"Uncle Cajos will continue enquiries alone." Lydia stated.

"Coming home and without your poor sister! Oh, Lydia, Lydia what is to become of us? Of Erica?"

Lydia frowned.

"Oh, oh." Her mother clutched her chest. "My smelling salts, quickly!" She made an anxious gesture. "My faintness comes upon me again."

Lydia uncorked the small, green bottle and held it to her mother's nose and then drew it quickly away when she grimaced and coughed...

 

It was raining when the carriage arrived and the servant held an umbrella over Mr Stilinski's head as he walked the short distance into the house. He looked older, his face drawn and tense. Stiles and Lydia waited in the hall to greet him, he walked between them and shrugged off his coat to be taken by the servant. 

"Not now Lydia, no questions now." He grasped Stiles's hand. "It is good to see you son." He let it drop and went straight into his library and shut the door. Lydia and Stiles looked at each other with concern.

 

Hale continued his search in London with varying success. There were several sightings of the runaways but no address or firm lead. And then a breakthrough. News arrived from the detective in Ramsgate. Mrs Young had quit the seaside some twelve months previous and taken a large house in Gallows Gate and let rooms. It was the lead Hale had been waiting for and in the evening he set off to search for the address he had been given. It wasn't the worst part of London but it was rough. He carried a hidden pistol and a sword concealed in a walking cane, as he left the handsome cab and approached the house on foot. He asked directions from one of the ragged children, a little girl and gave her several pennies when she pointed the way.

Raeken sat drinking and lounging in a chair. Erica dressed in her nightdress and dressing gown paced the room back and forth.

"May we not go out tonight? To the theatre perhaps?" She wheedled.

Raeken sighed deeply and took another swig of port.

Erica looked out of the window. "Great Lord! What a joke! What on earth is _he_ doing here?"

"What?" Who?!" Raeken snapped twisting in his seat to face her.

"You'll never guess." Erica giggled.

" _Who is it?! You stupid bitch!"_ He growled.

Erica turned a shocked face to him and then scowled. _"Mr Hale!"_ She spat at him, refusing to be intimidated.

Raeken's blood ran cold.

Hale checked the address carefully with the one he had been given and then rapped smartly on the door with the handle of his cane. A maid opened it, Mrs Young behind her. From the shocked look on Mrs Young's face he knew he had come to the right place. The maid attempted to close the door on him, but he pushed inside.

"Mrs Young, I believe you can help me locate someone I seek?".....

 

The girls sat at their embroidery and Stiles read by the candlelight of the parlour. A tea tray was set upon the table.

"Shall I fetch father? He has had nothing since he came home." Lydia asked Stiles.

"I'll go. You take mother her tea." He put his book down and stood and as he did so the door opened and Mr Stilinski entered. Lydia and Stiles glanced at each other and Stiles regained his seat. Without a word his father crossed to his chair and sat down.

"Well Lydia, Stiles, Isaac, Allison." He sighed heavily.

"You look so tired father," Lydia nodded , "it must have been a dreadful time for you."

"Say nothing of that my dear, it is no more than I deserve." he shook his head. "It has been my own doing and who else should suffer for it but I?"

"Oh father," Lydia frowned, "you are too severe upon yourself."

Stiles said nothing. There was nothing _to_ say. What his father said was largely true. If Erica had not been indulged, doted on by his mother and more or less ignored by his father in favour of a quiet life since infancy, this probably would not have happened. Mr Hale's words came back to him. ' _The frequent impropriety and lack of social graces shown by your mother and younger sisters, the failure of your father to censure and control them.'_ He was right, he had always been right but Stiles had refused to see it. But it was done and could not be undone...

Mr Stilinski smiled grimly. "Now Lydia, let me for once in my life feel how much I am to blame, I am not afraid of being overpowered by it and it will soon pass."

"Do you still think them in London, Sir?" Stiles asked.

"Aye I do." He nodded. "Where else would they be so well concealed?"

"Erica always wanted to go to London." Allison added.

"Well then we should rejoice that she has her way. No doubt her stay may be of some duration." He spoke sharply and Allison ducked her head.

"Stiles," his father lent toward him. "I bear you no ill will, in that you were right in what you said before Erica went to Brighton. Had I but heeded your advice," he sighed wearily, "you show good judgement and a level head."

"I must take mamma her tea." Lydia stood and poured a cup of tea.

"She still keeps above stairs does she?" Mr Stilinski asked with wry amusement. "Well, well it lends some elegance to our misfortunes I suppose. Next time I'll do the same. I'll sit in my library in my night cap and gown and give everyone as much trouble as I can. Though perhaps I may defer it until Allison runs away." He added sarcastically.

"I shall not run away." Allison protested. "If I were allowed to go to Brighton I should behave better than Erica."

"Brighton!" Her father exclaimed. "You go to Brighton? I would not trust you as far as Eastborne. No Allison," he got to his feet, "there will be changes and you and Isaac will feel the brunt of it. No officers are _ever_ to enter this house again or even pass through the village! Balls are forbidden unless you stand up with your brother and you will not be allowed beyond the front door unless you can prove you have spent ten minutes of each day in a rational manner!"

Allison burst into tears.

"There, there." Her father patted her shoulder."Time will fly and if you behave yourself, in ten years I'll take you to a revue."

Allison cried harder.

Mr Stilinski walked to the door. "If I am required I will be in the library." He opened the door, passed through and closed it behind him.

 

The express rider arrived with the letter late the next afternoon. Mr Stilinski was in the library, Mrs Stilinski kept to her room and Stiles and the girls were in the garden. On Mr Stilinski instruction Hill paid for the letter and took it to him. A little while later she went to bring in the washing and spied Lydia and Stiles collecting blackberries from the tangle of bushes. She watched for a moment and then approached.

"Yes Hill what is it?" Lydia asked. "Does Mrs Stilinski want one of us?

"Beg pardon miss, did you know a letter arrived express for the master from Mr Cajos?"

"How long ago Hill? " Stiles asked quickly.

"Oh must be half an hour, Sir." She answered.

They abandoned the blackberries and ran towards the house, Stiles leading and Lydia following. As they approached the house they spied their father walking on the lawn near the trees and ran toward him.

He raised his head and smiled. "Well, well Stiles."

"What news?" Stiles panted anxiously as Lydia joined them. "What does my uncle write?"

"Yes, yes I have had a letter from him." He reached into his pocket and drew the letter out.

"What news? Good or ill?" Stiles pressed.

"Ah, what is there of good to be expected?" Mr Stilinski muttered grimly. "But here," he held it out to him, "read it yourself if you've a mind to."

Stiles took the letter and sat on the stone bench under the tree. Lydia joined him and he unfolded the paper.

"Read it aloud if you will Stiles, I hardly know what to make of it myself." His father instructed.

" _"My dear brother,"_ Stiles began, " _I am at last able to send news of my niece and Mr Raeken. They have been discovered and I have seen them both."_

"Oh, " a look of joy crossed Lydia's face."It is as I hoped, they are married!"

" _"They are not yet married._ Lydia's face fell. _"Nor was there seems any intention on Raeken's part of being so. But if you will undertake to carry out the arrangements I have agreed on your behalf and I hope it will not be long before they are."_

Stiles looked up at his father with a frown. "What arrangements?"

"Read on," his father prompted.

_"All that is required of you is to assure your daughter her equal share of five hundred pounds inheritance upon your death and during your life fifty pounds per annum."_

"So little?" Stiles frowned. "It is no more than she gets at present. What of Raeken's debts?"

Mr Stilinski sighed."Read on."

_" You will understand it appears that Mr Raeken's debts are not so great as we feared and the situation by no means hopeless."_

Stiles and Lydia grinned at each other.

"Read on Stiles, read on." His father urged.

_"I am happy to report that there will be some little money even when all his debts are discharged," he faltered in reading with a frown, "to settle on my niece."_

"I can scarce believe it." Stiles commented warily.

"There is yet more, read on." is father urged for the last time.

" _It has been judged best and pressed upon me that my niece be married from Gracechurch Street, of which I hope you will approve."_

"Oh shame," Lydia frowned, "Allison so wanted to be a bridesmaid."

" _Please write back by express being certain to write explicitly about the financial settlement proposed. Yours etcetera...."_

Stiles thought for a moment and then spoke carefully.

"How can it possibly be that he will marry her for so little? One supposes that he is in love with her and yet that cannot be or else they would have gone straight to Gretna, and he would not have compromised her virtue."

"Perhaps we are too harsh and he is not as undeserving as we thought? Perhaps he is truly in love with her. Do you think?" Lydia ventured hopefully.

"You think that Lydia if it brings you comfort." Her father nodded.

"Have you answered the letter father?" Stiles queried.

"No, but I must and quickly."

Stiles stood with a sigh. "And they _must_ be married. And yet," he shook his head, "he is _such_ man."

"Yes, they must marry there is no other course of action." Mr Stilinski agreed. "But there are two things I want _very_ much to know. One is how much money your uncle laid down to bring about this agreement in Mr Raeken." 

Stiles sighed. 

"And secondly how am I ever to repay him?"....

 

Lydia had just washed her long hair and sat drying it with a towel in front of the fire in her room. Stiles sat on end of the bed and emitted a series of sighs.

"I wish....I wish I had never spoken of this affair to Mr Hale."

Lydia rubbed her hair. "I am sure he will not speak of it."

"He will not, I know he will not." Stiles agreed. "That is not what disquiets me."

"What then?" Lydia asked.

"I do not know." Stiles answered with a shake of his head. "Yes I do...... how he must despise me now and there was no need. if I had not told him.... Perhaps..." He looked longingly at Lydia.

"Perhaps he would have renewed his offer to you?" Lydia finished for him. "Perhaps so. But how would he have felt, how would _you_ have felt if at some later time he found out about it?"

"I do not know." He gave another sigh. "I know I shall most likely never see him again.............. I, I cannot bear to think he is alive in the world and thinks ill of me." A single tear rolled down his face. "Does that make sense?"

"Oh Stiles." Lydia gathered him into a hug.....

 

Later in the day Lydia and Stiles took the letter to their mother and told her the happy news. She became quite animated. Mrs Stilinski laughed and clapped her hands. "See I knew it would all turn out for the best," she chuckled, "did I not say so? " Lydia and Stiles glanced at each other. "And all thanks to your dear uncle. Oh my dear, dear Erica she will be married thanks to my good kind brother. I knew perfectly well how it would be and how he would manage everything. Oh, the clothes and of course she _must_ be married from Beacon. It is a nonsense that she be married from Gracechurch Street."

Stiles shook his head. "Can't you see that, that is impossible?"

"Impossible? Why should it be impossible?" She asked shrilly. "I do not see that it is impossible! She shall be married in Beacon church where her friends can see her and her sisters stand as bridesmaids and you and Isaac as groomsmen."

"She cannot." Stiles said firmly.

"And why not?" His mother challenged.

"Because she has been living in London as man and wife with Mr Raeken and if she arrives home unmarried..." His voice trailed way.

"Oh very well," his mother conceded with a huff and gestured irritably with her handkerchief. "But it is all most vexing and your uncle has taken a deal upon himself!"

"Mamma!" Lydia exclaimed with a frown."We are all much in debt to our aunt and uncle."

"He must have laid out a great deal of money to bring this about." Stiles added. "To clear Mr Raeken's debts and whatnot, more than we can ever repay."

"And why not pray? Who should lay out if not her own uncle?"

"Mother!" Stiles admonished sharply.

"Well," she giggled, "I am so happy. A daughter married and her only fifteen! Mrs Erica Raeken! Such a fine ring to it.......Oh but, I forget, the wedding clothes! Stiles, run down to your father and ask how much he will give her."

Stiles left the bedroom and made his way downstairs. He paused and puffed out a breath as his mother's voice drifted behind him making plans to break the news to aunt Martin. With his mother's voice sounding clearly behind him, he found the library door open. His father stood in front of the window hands clasped behind his back, deep in thought.

 

"Father? " He said quietly.

Mr Stilinski turned and held out his hand to him and Stiles grasped it.

"At least someone is made happy by this grievous affair." His mother's voice drifted to them. "Shut the door, Stiles."

Stiles shut the door and turned to his father and sighed. "Considering what we thought but a few hours ago, is this not the best outcome to be hoped for?"

His father made no reply and gave a tired smile.

"Do you think uncle Cajos had to lay out a _great_ deal of money?"

"I do, " his father answered firmly, "Raeken is a fool if he accepted her with a farthing less than ten thousand pounds and then his debts to be cleared."

Stiles's jaw dropped." _Heaven forbid. Ten thousand pounds!_ So much?"

His father nodded.

"How is even half so much to ever be repaid?" He asked with a frown.

"I wish I had laid by an annual sum to bribe worthless young men to marry my daughters, but I confess I have not. The reason was of course," he sat heavily in a chair, "I intended to clear the mortgage on the estate. You would inherit and thereby ensure prosperity for your mother, yourself, your brother and sisters after my death. But it was not to be." He sighed.

"You could not have foreseen this calamity father."

He shook his head sadly. "I should have done more, taken better care of you all. I should then not have had to endure the prospect of having for a son-in-law one of the most worthless men in Britain! As it is the thing is done with extraordinary little inconvenience and financial outlay to myself. When you take into account what I shall save on Erica's board, I shall be all of _ten pounds_ per annum better off...... I am heartily ashamed of myself Stiles, but do not despair the feeling will pass soon enough." He stood. "And no doubt much quicker than it should." He walked back to the window and took up his former position.

 

It was a fine, bright morning in London. The little out of the way church basked in the sunlight. A carriage rolled to a halt at the short flight of steps pulled by two white horses, decorated with white ribbons. Erica, Mr and Mrs Cajos waited for the footman in Hale's livery to open the carriage door and then help first Mr Cajos and then Erica and Mrs Cajos alight. Erica wore a simple, white muslin gown heavily laced across the bosom and a panel of lace down the front. Her hair was piled up onto her head and threaded through with tiny yellow rosebuds and she carried a small bouquet of yellow and white rosebuds. Uncle Cajos in top hat and tails took her arm and aunt Cajos followed in her Sunday best muslin dress of salmon pink and matching bonnet with feathers. Erica smiled, but her aunt and uncle looked solemn. 

Erica looked about her and a frown replaced her smile. "Where are all the people and the guard of honour?"

"Hush child." her uncle patted her hand.

Inside the church was still and quiet. No organ played and the church and pews were not decorated. There was no point, the pews were empty except for the bridegroom and his groomsman. The vicar waited at the altar steps. As Erica entered Raeken stood, dressed in smart breeches, dark blue tailcoat, matching waistcoat, white cravat and shirt. Hale stood beside him as groomsman, his face grim and serious. Raeken cast him a look and Hale twitched back his coat revealing the handle of a pistol and raised an elegant eyebrow. There was no doubt he would use it at the slightest provocation on Raeken's part and thereby make Erica a widow before she was a wife. They moved into the aisle as Erica stood beside Raeken and at a nod from Hale the wedding commenced.

 

The next day Mr Stilinski read the letter form his brother-in -law out loud at the lunch table.

" _It has been arranged with Colonel Harris to avoid scandal, Mr Raeken will be allowed to resign his commission in the militia and go into a Northern regiment of regulars. Colonel Harris has friends willing to help him purchase a commission. His creditors in Brighton and London have been satisfied."_ He turned over the page and continued.

" _I ask that you will be so good as to clear his debts in Mereton which are not so very large and enclose a list."_ He held a separate sheet of paper aloft. " _I hope at least he has not deceived us._ Well let us all hope so. _As soon as they are married they will travel North to join his new regiment in Newcastle unless they are first invited to Beacon"._

"Oh yes of course they must come here!" Mrs Stilinski interrupted shrilly, "I long to see my darling girl and dear Raeken too! It is a great pity he has decided to join a Northern regiment, the Northern officers might not be so agreeable."

"I am sure Erica will have absolutely no problem finding friends as silly as she in Newcastle." Mr Stilinski answered.

"If he is to quit the regiment they should come and live in Hertfordshire."

Stiles's head jerked up.

"They could take Lake House," his mother continued, "if the Parrish's would quit it or The Great House a Stoke, but the rooms are a little small."

"Mrs Stilinski." Mr Stilinski peered over his spectacles. "May I warn you before you take any or all of those residences there is one house in Hertfordshire into which they will _never_ set foot..... _Beacon_."

 

The smart Landau trotted up Beacon's short drive pulled by two attractive bay horses. It had both a driver and footman.The top was down and Raeken lounged back in his seat. He was smartly dressed as a gentleman and had a smug look on his face. Erica sat beside him, leaning forward eagerly and wreathed in smiles. She wore a pretty grey feathered bonnet, a white muslin gown covered by a grey full length coat and a grey feathered boa around her neck.

Mrs Stilinski laughed and waved and stood eager to greet her and behind her, her daughters and Isaac. Mr Stilinski and Stiles hung back and wore no smiles.

The carriage rolled to a stop, the footman jumped down and opened the door. Raeken stepped down and turned to offer his hand to Erica.

"Lord what a lark, it seems like an age since we were last at Beacon and here you all are." She scanned her mother and sisters critically, "Just the same."

"Oh, Erica!" her mother hugged her. "How we have missed you, I do believe you've grown!."

Erica grinned. "We have been _far_ too merry to miss any of you." She reached for Raeken's arm. "Well here we are. Have I not caught myself a fine husband?"

Raeken smirked at them and caught Stiles's eye. 

Stiles pointedly turned away.

"You are all goodness and kindness Ma'am," he bowed to Mrs Stilinski with a tight smile, "as always."

"Oh, let me give you a kiss then. " She kissed his cheek. Behind her Mr Stilinski rolled his eyes as she giggled. He stepped forward.

"Well I suppose we should all go in." He offered his wife his arm and still giggling she took it.

There was a strict order of precedence among the children. As the eldest Lydia followed her mother and beside her Stiles, next walked Isaac and Allison and Erica had been relegated to the rear. Now as Stiles and Lydia stepped forward into position Erica pushed past them.

"No Lydia, as a married woman _I_ go before you with my husband and _you_ and Stiles go lower." She said with a smirk.

Without a word Lydia and Stiles stepped back and allowed Erica and Raeken to follow their mother and father into the house.

 

The next day Stiles and his sisters walked together in the small paddock that lay to the rear between the house and the lane. Stiles walked at the back of the party with Lydia. Allison fussed over Erica and Isaac walked in silence. Raeken rode around them on a fine chestnut gelding and showed off by jumping a small, fallen tree trunk.

"Is not my husband a fine rider?" Erica gushed."Colonel Harris said he had one of the best seats in the regiment."

Stiles huffed and rolled his eyes, Lydia elbowed him in the ribs gently.

"I was sorry to leave Brighton. A little while longer and I should have found you _both_ husbands and you and Isaac wives, Stiles."

"I do not think I care for _your_ way of finding husbands and wives," Stiles commented tartly.

Erica ignored him and continued. "I wish I had been married from Beacon and then you could have been bridesmaids and Stiles and Isaac could have been groomsmen. As it was 'twas a very dull affair. Raeken would not wear his regimentals and he looks _so_ handsome in red. Colonel Harris said that none could be spared to be a guard of honour and so there was just my aunt and uncle Cajos in the end. Oh, and Mr Hale of course."

Stiles stopped dead, eyes wide and mouth open. Lydia glanced at him.

" _Mr Hale!?_ Mr Hale at your wedding? But why on earth was he there?" Stiles spluttered.

Erica turned. " _Someone_ had to be groomsman, silly! We would have preferred one of the twins, but they could not be spared. He glowered and was cross through the whole ceremony."

Stiles stood at a loss for words and Lydia frowned.

"Oh Lord!" Erica threw her hands to her mouth and giggled. "I wasn't supposed to tell you, they made me swear especially! Oh lore, Raeken and the rest will be so cross." She shrugged."But it is done now, I never saw the reason for secrecy in the first place." She turned and walked on.

As soon as he got home Stiles closeted himself in his room and wrote a letter to his aunt Cajos. He begged her to tell him how Derek of all people came to be involved in Erica's wedding? Unless she too was bound by a web of secrecy about the affair.

Several days later he received a reply which was to both shock and dismayed him. He carried the letter into the garden and sat on a bench to read.

_'My Dearest Nephew,  
I hardly know what to write. I have been asked to keep my share in the secret but feel that you of all people should know the truth, and the great debt your family owes Mr Hale. Though they must **never** know of it. _

_It was not your uncle Cajos discovered them, but Mr Hale. They were secreted at a lodging house in Gallows Gate run by a Mrs Young. Mr Hale intimated that she was not wholly innocent in the affair and that he had, had dealings with her before of a similar nature._

_He took steps to secure them in a safe lodging lest Raeken take it in his head to run off. He then called upon us and revealed what he had done. Stiles, he insisted on being allowed to take care of everything stating that it was his fault and his alone. He knew what Raeken's character was and yet he failed to warn of it when he first saw him in Mereton. Had he done so, he felt this whole affair could not have happened._

_It was he _persuaded_ Raeken to marry Erica and worked out a financial settlement. He organised the wedding, the carriages, clothes, everything. He settled Raeken's debts in Brighton and London. He made sure Raeken attend and went through with the ceremony and he negotiated with Colonel Harris, Raeken's resignation from the regiment and commission in the regulars.'_

Stiles gasped as he read.

' _Your uncle Edward tried his best to persuade Mr Hale to allow us to do something. Make some sort of financial contribution. He was adamant and would not be moved from his purpose. And Mr Hale is not a man to be thwarted. Nothing was done that he did not do, personally._

_Your dear uncle instead of being of some use to his niece was persuaded and entreated to bear the credit of it. Mr Hale demanded responsibility for the whole affair and said that he alone should be allowed to remedy it.'_

 

"My dear brother?"

Stiles jumped at the sound of Raeken come up on him unawares and he quickly folded his letter and slipped it into his pocket. He looked up at Raeken watching him and leaning on his cane.

"I am interrupting you?" Raeken smiled.

Stiles forced a smile and chanted a mantra in his head. _'Be civil for Erica's sake.'_

"You are indeed, but it doesn't matter." He smiled thinly.

"I am pleased," Raeken walked forward, "you and I were always friends I think."

Stiles kept smiling but made no reply.

"Shall we take a turn around the garden together?" He gestured toward the garden, brother?"

He stepped away and Stiles rose and followed him to a more secluded part of the garden.

"I was surprised to see Hale in London recently." Raeken commented swinging his cane. "We past each other several times. I could not help but wonder what he was doing there?"

Stiles grunted. "Perhaps he had business or he was preparing for the wedding?"

"Wedding?" Raeken's head jerked up.

"Why yes, he is after all betrothed to Lady Malia."

"Yes, yes that must have been it. " Raeken agreed.

"It must have been something particular to take him to London this time of year." Stiles nodded.

"Undoubtedly."

They walked through the trees, ducking the low branches.

"Did you see anything of him while you were in Lampton?" Raeken asked casually. "I thought I understood from your sister that you had.?"

"Yes, he introduced us to Miss Hale." Stiles answered.

"And did you like her?"

"Yes, a great deal." Stiles gave a genuine smile." She is a very proper and accomplished young lady. Very pretty, kind and gracious."

"Not like her brother then." Raeken answered bitterly. "I have heard reports that she has improved greatly in recent times. When I knew her she was not at all promising."

Stiles clenched his teeth to prevent a tart reply.

"I am glad you liked her." He continued. "I hope she turns out well."

"I believe she will, after all she is through the most trying time of ill judgement and vulnerability."

Raeken gave him a curious look.

"Did you go by the village of Kempton?"

"Kempton?" Stiles frowned. "I do not believe so."

"It is of little consequence other than it is where I was supposed to have the living that I should have had."

They drew to a halt and Stiles and looked at him, barely able to conceal his wonder at his conceit and ability to lie with such ease. They were in a secluded spot where they would be neither seen nor overheard. He looked around for any servants or gardeners present, there were none.

"And how should you have liked making sermons, Sir?" Stiles asked bluntly.

Raeken leaned on his cane his hand on his hip. 

"Exceedingly well."

"Really?" Stiles's eyebrows rose. "I did hear there was a time when giving sermons held no appeal for you. I heard that when you were offered the living you rejected it saying that it was never your intention to enter the clergy. Further," he stepped toward him, " Mr Hale being an honourable gentleman, compensated you accordingly." 

"Ah," Raeken swiped at the grass with his cane, "well I may have overstated the case a little...."

Stiles gave a tight smile."Come now Mr Raeken, let us not quarrel..... For my sister's sake." He paused and his face hardened and voice dropped. " _Never_ call me _brother_ again, if you do I will knock you down." He promised.

Raeken's face darkened.

"In fact," Stiles continued, "I would be obliged if you addressed me as little as possible. I will certainly make strenuous efforts to avoid _your_ society and wish only my sister had done the same!"

Stiles turned and stepped away.

"She threw herself at me you know, in Brighton. Your precious sister!" Raeken sneered.

Stiles spun around.

"She is a foolish, giddy fifteen year old girl. You are a man of the world fully twice her age!" His dark eyes flashed with anger, his hands balled into fists at his sides. "Tell me which of you should be held accountable?! The pity of it is. we must suffer _you_ in our family for the rest of our lives for her folly!"

Stiles stalked off in the direction of the house. Raeken followed behind swinging his cane irritably........

 

Three days later a small carriage with two bay horses pulled up at Beacon's steps and Raeken emerged from the house with Erica behind hanging on her mother's arm. Servants bustled about and loaded their trunks.

"Must you go so soon?" Mrs Stilinski whined and hugged her and kissed each cheek. Her sisters and Stiles looked on.

"I am afraid we must Ma'am." Raeken nodded. "Duty and honour call me into the North country." Stiles glanced toward his father and he muttered under his breath. _"What does he know of honour and duty?"_

"When shall we see you again?" Her mother wailed and hugged Erica close.

"Oh Lord I don't know." Erica answered brightly. "Two, three years I suppose."

"Two or three years!" Her mother threw up her hands in dismay. "Whatever shall I do without my dear, dear girl?!" She glared at Mr Stilinski. "And your father too mean to take us into the North country!"

"Well _I_ shouldn't want to go!" Isaac gave Raeken a disapproving look.

"Oh hushhh!" His mother snapped at him.

"My sisters and brothers may write to me," Erica condescended, "but I may not always reply. We _married_ women have better things to do than write letters." She giggled.

Raeken interjected, eager to be on his way. "Thank you Ma'am and you Sir," he nodded at Mr Stilinski who gave a watery smile, "for your unstinting kindness and hospitality. And thanks too to my dear sisters in-law and brot....." 

Stiles tensed and glared at him.

"Stiles and Isaac. " Raeken corrected. "As dear to me as relatives ever could be."

Raeken helped Erica into the carriage and followed her himself and the footman closed the door and took up his position.

Raeken leaned from the open window. "Let us not bid goodbye, but as the French do, say _Au revoir_."

They stood and waved and Erica leaned out through the window as the carriage trotted away and out of sight. The women turned toward the house and Stiles and his father followed.

"He is as fine a fellow as ever there was." Mr Stilinski nodded. "He simpers and smirks, lies to our faces and makes love to us all. I am prodigiously proud of him.....I defy even Lord McCall to have a son-in-law to match him!"....

 

Several weeks past. Autumn arrived and it grew steadily colder and the fires were once again lit in most of the rooms. Isaac read studiously from the Bible and practiced his oratory skills. Allison moped about, made and unmade bonnets and generally missed Erica. Mrs Stilinski kept increasingly above stairs, worried at the servants and lamented that Mr Stilinski would not venture into the North country. Mr Stilinski fell into his customary habit of retreating into the library and closing the door on the world. Stiles and Lydia tried to keep busy and were society for each other as they each tried to forget the men they loved. Stiles walked a lot over the fields and often he and Lydia walked to Mereton and visited their aunt Martin. 

Stiles began to contemplate his future. He give serious consideration to an idea that he move to London and lodge with his aunt and uncle Cajos and enter his uncle's business.

It was a great improvement on the Army or Church as a career.

One afternoon Mrs Martin was spotted almost running toward the house. She was no sooner let in than she made for the stairs with an air of great excitement and calling shrilly.

"Sister! Sister!" Mrs Stilinski struggled to sit up on the chaise as her sister all but fell through the bedroom door. "Sister, I have great news!"

Mrs Stilinski lent eagerly forward. "What is it sister!?"

"Mr Parrish is returning to Lake House and the whole village is talking of it!"

Indeed there was great excitement. The servants arrived first though not in as great a number as previously and all male. The windows were un shuttered, the dust sheets removed and the fires lit. Once again plumes of smoke were seen from the great chimneys. Provisions were bought and the larders stocked and cellars filled with all manner of wine, beers and spirits. Carpets were cleaned and chandeliers polished, The game keepers and beaters were put on alert in preparation for Mr Parrish's arrival. It was let known that this was a Shooting Party and would only consist of gentlemen, Mr Parrish, his friends and guests.

 

Stiles leaned against the window sill and watched Lydia tying herbs and hanging them in bunches from the low beams in the kitchen.

"Do not worry Stiles, I am not concerned by his coming. He has given it to be known he means to stay a few weeks, brings no ladies and does not intend to give any balls or parties." She tied more sage and hung it to dry. "Without ladies he will not expect to receive callers and it is doubtful he will call at any house it the district." She glanced up at her brother studying her solemnly. "I doubt father will be invited to shoot and I don't even expect to see him. "

"But you would like to?" Stiles asked quietly. 

"If I see him, so be it. I do not worry at all for myself but wonder only what others will say."

He sighed. "Mother."

Lydia nodded. "It is clear he is done with me and it is a pretty pass if we cannot meet as friends without being the target of excited speculation."

"I shall say nothing. But it _is_ a shame and a pity if he cannot come and shoot peacefully at an estate he has legally rented." Stiles agreed with a quiet smile.

"That is just what I think. " Lydia concurred.

"Then," Stiles pushed off the sill, "he shall be left to himself."

"Yes.........." Stiles ducked his head at her and grinned. "Stop it at once Stiles and what if he brings Mr Hale?"

Stiles straightened. "Mr Hale will not be renewing his addresses to me, he made that _quite_ clear in Derbyshire. And I have no wish that he should. It was an idle dream and he was right, we are entirely unsuited and he will have forgotten me." He drew his shoulders into a shrug.

"I do not see that it should be assumed that Mr Parrish will renew his addresses to me and Mr Hale will not renew his to you." Lydia protested.

"You did not see his face." Stiles replied quietly.

 

For three days guns were heard over Lake House land. From mid morning until mid afternoon and the barking of dogs as the gentlemen shot grouse, pheasant geese and duck. There was no sign of either Mr Parrish or Mr Hale anywhere in the neighbourhood, a fact much lamented by Mrs Stilinski who had at last left her rooms.

Mrs Stilinski wandered from the drawing room and into the small reception room where Isaac practiced his public speaking, complaining loudly to anyone who could hear.

"Three days, three days and Mr Parrish has not called upon us! I blame Mr Stilinski entirely. " She made a hopeless gesture. "He will not call and present our compliments and so you will all die old maids!. And he will die and the Daehler's will turn us out to starve in the hedgerows!" She wailed shrilly.

Mr Stilinski lent on the mantle in the drawing room and warmed his backside.

"You promised me last time he was in the neighbourhood that if I called on him he would marry one of the girls and look how that turned out!" He shouted a reply. "I will not be sent on a fools errand again." He huffed.

Lydia looked up from her embroidery and sighed. Stiles cast her a sympathetic look over the top of his book.

Allison wandered to the drawing room window, twitched back the curtain and looked out. "Mamma! " She shouted excitedly. "He's coming. Mr Parrish is riding up the drive!"

"What!?" Mrs Stilinski rushed to the window. "Is it him? I believe it _is_. Lydia! Lydia he is come at last!" She threw up her hands her face split by a wide grin.

Their father scowled. "I think that is my cue to leave. I shall be in the library if I am wanted." Mr Stilinski left the room.

Lydia's head jerked up her eyes wide with astonishment. Stiles grinned at her and mouthed silently. ' _I told you so.'_

Mrs Stilinski rushed over to her all fluttering excitement. "Do not just sit there girl! Run put on your blue gown!" Lydia rose, her mother pushed her back into her seat. "There is no time."

"He has another gentleman with him Allison turned her head and spoke over her shoulder. "That dark, proud man that nobody liked."

"Mr Hale?" Stiles choked, the colour draining from his face and the book slipping from his hands. Lydia looked at him and grinned.

His mother looked out."Yes it is he. Well," she huffed as she pulled down the curtain, "I am sure he is very welcome as a friend of Mr Parrish if nothing more. Or else I must say, " she gestured, "I hate the sight of him." She crossed to the mirror and straightened her cap. "I am determined to be civil to him but only because the man is a friend of Parrish. But _no more_ than civil."

Stiles felt a gnawing ache in the pit of his stomach as he retrieved his fallen book. Derek here? Why? He was certain he was done with him and with Mr Parrish. He only assumed that Mr Parrish had wanted to call and Mr Hale came as a friend to add support. He _could not_ want to see him. Could he?

"Sit up straight Lydia," her mother prompted, "and pull your shoulders back." Her mother yanked her shoulders back. "A man could go along way and not see a figure as fine as yours, make the most of it girl!"

They heard the front door open and Mrs Stilinski rushed to a chair and sat in it, looking serene.

Hill opened the drawing room door.

"Mr Parrish and Mr Hale Ma'am."

The two gentlemen swept into the room and Hill bobbed and closed the door behind her.

The two gentlemen who entered were dressed for riding, but only Mr Parrish carried a tall hat in his hand. Hale carried only a riding crop. 

Mrs Stilinski remained seated as they entered. Parrish fairly bounded over to her with a grin, Hale following behind altogether steadier and sterner look on his face.

"Mrs Stilinski Ma'am, it is so good to see you again." Mr Parrish bowed from the waist and Hale did likewise but with less depth to his bow. 

Mrs Stilinski inclined her head. Mr Parrish turned to Stiles and his sisters. "Ladies, Stiles." He bowed and the girls rose and curtsied and Stiles bowed and used the opportunity to look at Hale from under his lashes. He was just the same, as handsome as in Derbyshire, but a good deal more tense and formal. Hale mirrored Mr Parrish allowing his eyes to stray to Stiles and linger for a second. 

Stiles felt a mixture of exhilaration and fear shudder through him from that one glance.

Lydia stared wide-eyed at Mr Parrish, a gentle smile playing about her lips.

"Mr Parrish, you are _very, very_ welcome." Mrs Stilinski gushed all smiles and bobbing head.

"How d' you do Ma'am it is............" Parrish was cut short.

"It is far too long since you were last in the neighbourhood, " Mrs Stilinski cut him off, "And it is _very, very_ kind of you to call. Mr Stilinski of course _would_ have paid his addresses before this."

Stiles and Hale gave each other a heated glance.

"Were it not....... " She gave an embarrassed laugh. "Well in any event here you are and very welcome.... I am delighted to see you." She glanced at Hale. "And you Mr Hale, you are welcome too I am sure." She added sourly.

Hale gave a thin lipped smile and inclined his head in acknowledgement.

Mr Parrish took the chair opposite Mrs Stilinski and Stiles and the girls returned to their seats. Stiles's hopeful eyes tracked Hale as he strode to the window and looked out at the lawn, his tense, straight back presented to the room.

"We began to doubt Sir, that you would return to the neighbourhood." Mrs Stilinski continued. 

Hale turned and put a hand on the back of Parrish's chair and listened with an enigmatic face.

"There was even a rumour that you intended to quit the place _entirely._ " She continued. "But I hope however that it is not true?" She probed. "Ring the bell for tea Stiles." She added the command suddenly.

Stiles rose, as Hale's eyes followed him and pulled the bell pull to summon Hill and returned to his seat. For a moment their eyes locked and a vaguely sensuous light passed between them that made Stiles's breath catch and lips part slightly.

"A great many things have happened since you were last here." Mrs Stilinski babbled."Miss McCall is married to a distant relative of ours and happily settled in Kent. " She gave a dismissive wave of her handkerchief.

Hale looked at Stiles with half hooded eyes and Stiles's heart quickened at the eager affection he felt rise excitedly within himself.

"And one of my own dear daughters is married. Erica, my youngest. Indeed you must of read of it in the newspapers?" She added with a cock of her head and expectant air.

"Yes, I believe so." Parrish answered, looking vague.

"Oh but," Mrs Stilinski frowned, "it was put in all wrong. It said only ' _Lately, Mr Theo Raeken esquire to Miss Erica Stilinski.'_ Nothing about her family or where she came from." She complained. "Not a syllable about her father or I."

Hale's jaw tightened and he turned away to the window. Seeing it Stiles almost rose to his feet and went to him, but settled for pointed looks at Lydia and glares cast at his mother's profile. If only she knew, if only she realized what a debt they owed Mr Hale, but she did not and so carried on her inane prattle.

"And now he has resigned the militia and gone into the regulars and is posted to Newcastle and there they are to stay. I do not know how long." She paused and glared at Hale's back and her voice rose and took on a hard edge. "His friends helped him purchase a commission. He still has _some. Though not as many as he perhaps deserves."_ She said pointedly.

Stiles saw Hale flinch and tense.

He needed to divert his mother. "Do you mean to stay long in the district, Sir?" Stiles asked Mr Parrish with a thick, trembling voice.

"Ah," Mr Parrish glanced at Hale's back. "We... err we, " he stammered nervously, "our plans are not yet firmly settled." He gazed at Lydia, she smiled softly. "I hope, I hope we shall stay some weeks." He glanced again at Hale and the brunette gave an imperceptible nod. He smiled at Lydia. "We shall stay at least a few weeks," he paused before adding, "at the very least."

"Well, when you have killed all your own birds I beg you will come here Mr Parrish and kill as many as you please on Mr Stilinski manor, " Mrs Stilinski chuckled, "I am sure he will be _vastly_ happy to oblige you. " She nodded eagerly. Her eyes drifted to Hale."I suppose you may bring your _friends_ , if you will it."

Hale turned his head slightly the muscle ticking in his cheek and then turned back to the window.

Stiles rolled his eyes and sighed. Longing and yet dreading that Hale would speak to him.

Hill brought the tea and for the next half an hour they made polite small talk, in which Hale took no part. He cast glances at Stiles his eyes sliding over his body like the caress of his hands, that Stiles longed for. They spoke not a word. In fact almost all of the conversation was between Mrs Stilinski and Mr Parrish.

In due course, they left and Stiles and Lydia watched them from the drawing room window as they rode down the drive. Mr Parrish on his grey and Mr Hale on his tall, black hunter.

They waited only a matter of fifteen minutes or so and then Stiles and Lydia excused themselves and made their way to a secluded spot in the garden where they would not be overheard. The walked side by side through the bronze and copper leafed trees.

"Now this first meeting is over my mind is quite relieved." Lydia commented. "All awkwardness is gone."

"Good, I wish I could say the same." Stiles sighed.

"You were disquieted by Mr Hale?" Lydia questioned with a frown.

"Very, yes." He confessed. "His looks may have said one thing but his bearing and manner _quite_ another." He made a vague gesture. "He did not utter one word to me and I confess to being totally confused as to his intent. I think that he only came to oblige and support his friend and he did not intend to see me at all."

"But he did _look_ at you and there was some intent in his eyes, that cannot be denied." Lydia ventured.

Stiles chewed his bottom lip.

"I need to speak to him, find out if he despises me now." He sighed.

"Stiles, I do not profess to be wise about the world, but I judge that his were not the looks he would give to someone he despised. For myself now I know my own strength I shall not fear meeting Mr Parrish. I shall never again be embarrassed by his presence. We can meet as casual and indifferent, though friendly acquaintances. " She laughed nervously.

"Oh yes," Stiles agreed with and amused tone, _very_ indifferent. Lydia take care." He warned.

"You do not think my heart in any danger _now_ do you Stiles?"

"I think," Stiles paused, "you are very much in danger of making Mr Parrish in love with you as much as ever he was," he drew a deep breath, "and you with him." He smiled.

They stopped walking and Lydia gazed at him intently. "And _I_ think Mr Hale still loves you... and _you_ dear brother, love him...."


	11. Chapter 11

Stiles could hardly eat any dinner that evening. Lydia's words kept coming back to him echoing over and over in his head. ' _I think Mr Hale still loves you, and _you_ dear brother, love him.' _ Was it true? Could Derek still love him after all that had happened? After Erica's disgrace? 

That he loved Derek was even more confusing. He was handsome, powerful, rich, all potent allurements, but if that was all, was it love or lust? In some small part was he attracted to him only because he was his salvation and through gratitude? That wouldn't be enough reason to spend a life time with him. He couldn't envisage being with someone he didn't respect and truly love. Derek's wealth and the gratitude he bore him for his sister's rescue were a hindrance to knowing his true heart, not a help. He loved Nemeton and could certainly be happy living there, but that was not reason enough to become Derek's Companion and lover.

In Derbyshire Mr Hale had been kind, thoughtful, without arrogance or false pride. His nature seemed easy going, tolerant and good humoured. Servants had spoken well of him without prompting and out of his presence. He possessed a confident, masterful air which he knew was a short coming in himself. He was sober, responsible and honourable and appeared even tempered, especially in the face of provocation from Mrs Stilinski. All in all he could see no bar to his respecting and loving him. 

True, he spoke too frankly at times and was brutally honest about his thoughts and feelings, made urgent opinion about people, but so did he. Wasn't his honesty better than falsehoods? It was true what he had said about not offering false flattery. _'I regret that your pride is bruised by an honest opinion and confession of the scruples which long prevented me from forming any serious design on you. Had I concealed my struggles and flattered you... But disguise of every kind is my abhorrence. '_ His feelings _had_ been hurt by his words but he had long forgiven him.

These thoughts filled Stiles head as he chased his food around his plate and ate little.

"Stiles....Stiles....Stiles!" He jumped as his father raised his voice and he blinked at him. "I asked if you felt quite well? You have hardly eaten anything and seem preoccupied." His father's face mirrored his concern.

"Pardon me. I am quite well Sir, though a little tired." Stiles replied.

His father grunted. "Well, as long as that is all it is."

 

Stiles sat in his nightshirt and dressing gown and looked at himself in the mirror of his dressing table.The candle guttered and flickered as he studied his face. He was nothing special, he didn't count himself at all handsome. His eyes seemed too big for his face, his nose too snub with an annoying upturn and his complexion, though the envy of titled ladies, too pale. His mouth he supposed tolerable and he at least had a pleasant smile. In build he was quite tall and very slender. He had a pleasing width to his shoulders and his muscles, what he had of them, were long and lean. He knew he would never be able to emulate Derek's manly physique. 

He could see nothing at all in himself to attract the admiration of a man like Derek Hale and was about to deconstruct his own character and personality when there was a gentle rapping on the door. He twisted around on his chair.

"Come in," he called quietly.

Lydia stuck her head through the door."Good I am not disturbing you." She entered carrying a candle in her nightshift and shawl. She closed the door and set her candle on the bedside table and made herself comfortable on the edge of the bed. "I was greatly disturbed to see your preoccupation and lack of appetite at the dinner table this evening and I have come to seek out the cause." Her voice was firm and determined though her face was marred with a look of concern.

Stiles drew a deep breath and let it out slowly not sure if he wanted this discussion, even with Lydia. "I am sorry to cause you such disquiet, I was merely thinking about what you said earlier. If Mr Hale has a partial affection for me, I cannot see the cause."

Lydia looked at him speculatively.

"I mean," Stiles continued, "I can see why Mr Parrish, why anyone would fall in love with you. You are beautiful, full of goodness and kindness. You are loathe to think ill of anyone, have great patience and intelligence and generally believe well of the world..... I do not profess to have half your goodness, kindness or patience. I make hasty judgements about people, am stubborn in my opinions, speak before I think and am generally dissatisfied with the world. I am inclined toward sarcasm and not at all handsome. In short there is very little to recommend me to anyone, let alone a man such as Mr Hale."

Lydia gave a soft laugh, relieved that, that was all it was. "Stiles you are too severe upon yourself." She sighed. "You have faults, we all do including me. My nature is indecisive and easily deceived, I do not make great changes because I am too satisfied with my lot in life. Knowing our faults is a big step toward remedying them. You are good, kind and loyal, generally easy going and good humoured.You are certainly as intelligent as I, if not more so. You tend to over analyse yourself, other people and situations instead of accepting them. It is true you are stubborn, though I prefer _determined._ You speak out of turn because papa encouraged you from being small to speak your mind and that is not always wise. " She nodded to emphasise her point. "You _are_ inclined to make quick decisions about people based upon what you see and hear. Such hasty judgements are difficult to change. And who," she frowned. "are you to decide if Mr Hale should find merit in you or not? What suits one, may not suit another. To deny him this right would be to say he is a man who does not know his own mind and I do not think that can be said of the Master of Nemerton, in fact I would venture Mr Hale is a man very much to know his own mind.

As for being attractive. _'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder'_. You call me beautiful, I do not see it. I could catalogue my faults to you. I doubt anyone who is not prideful, self-opinionated and vain would think themselves half so attractive as others might see them. The important thing is that to Mr Hale you _are_ perfection."

She was right of course, Stiles knew it. He was looking for a way to excuse his disappointment if it turned out Mr Hale no longer had any regard for him. "You are right," he agreed tentatively, "I have no right to dictate what or who might attract Mr Hale, only wonder at it if it is me."

"Do not wonder at it," Lydia advised, "just accept it."

"That's just it." Stiles huffed I _have_ to know how Mr Hale regards me and I do not think I will find out on his visits here."

"Then perhaps you should go to Lake House and speak to him privately?" She suggested tentatively.

Stiles nodded his head, that was it he needed to go to Lake House.

 

He didn't sleep, not a wink. All night he tossed and turned with different scenarios racing through his head. It was an outrageous thing to do, call without an invite or prior notice and he risked a lot doing it. Firstly no-one should know of his visit, lest he be forbidden and awkward questions would be asked at the very least. And then how would Derek take his intrusion? His glances had been heated at times and stirred in Stiles glorious memories of what they had done in the walled garden at Nemeton. Fire ignited in his blood and his body suffused with warmth at the memory of it, but Derek's manner had been stiff and formal on his recent visit to Beacon. Perhaps it was because of the presence of his mother or was it indicative of some inner turmoil in Derek himself? Perhaps he warred with himself once more and rebelled against being enamoured of him? Maybe this time better judgement won? Stiles didn't want to think about that, didn't want to face the possibility that Mr Hale would tell him that he realised the impossibility of their alliance and dashed his hopes. But he _had_ to know, had to know if there was hope or if he was deluding himself and there was none. At the very least Derek had allowed Mr Parrish back to Lake House and to visit, surely that was a sign there was hope? And he did need to thank him on behalf of his family for his great kindness in rescuing Erica, he _had_ to be the one for only he knew of it. His family were ignorant of the part Mr Hale played and would remain so. The expression of gratitude had to be delivered and that alone was reason enough to merit the visit.

He made his mind up to the deed and the rest of the night was spent working out how it would be best accomplished and what Stiles would actually say to the handsome brunette.

 

Stiles arose early and took pains over his appearance, but not too much as that would cause comment. He dressed smartly and tried in vain to bring some semblance of order to his unruly hair. He chivvied his mother and sisters to the breakfast table and retrieved his father from the library so that breakfast was a full hour earlier than normal. When questioned as to his rush he answered that he wanted to go into Mereton and place his letter to his aunt and uncle in the hands of the Postmaster. His excitement was put down to the prospect of moving to London and working in his uncle's business. Only Lydia gave him knowing looks.

His plan almost came to naught when Allison made an announcement.

"I'll walk with you Stiles."

Stiles's heart sank.

"As far as the turn off to The Lodge, I want to visit Lady McCall." She finished.

Stiles breathed a sigh of relief. Isaac seldom went into Mereton and Lydia had guessed what he was about. If he hurried he would reach Lake House before the guns left for the day. The turning for The Lodge was some quarter mile beyond the stile and track that would let Stiles cross Lake House land to the house, but it would only take him minutes to back track.

Stiles shrugged into his coat and Hill helped Allison on with her coat and bonnet. Lydia mouthed, 'good luck' and with Allison on his arm they set off. It was a pleasant morning, cool rather than cold and the sky blue and clear. It promised to be a fine day and ideal for shooting.

If anyone asked Stiles what Allison talked about during their walk he could not have told them. Fortunately it seem to require no input or reply from himself and so they walked smartly along the lane in the early morning sunlight. Farm labourers were just starting their day and stopped to bid them 'good morning' and then went about their business. Allison easily kept up with Stiles's brisk, longer stride and the turn off to The Lodge was soon reached. 

She left go of his arm and bid farewell and disappeared along the hedged lane toward The Lodge. Stiles felt a pang of guilt, deceit did not come easily to him. He watched her out of sight and quickly back tracked to the stile, hopped over and headed across the fields toward the house.

It was not yet nine thirty and it would be well past ten by the time the guns left, if the previous days shooting was any indication. Stiles reckoned it would take about half an hour to reach the house, half an hour and he would know the truth. His muscles clenched in the pit of his stomach and he had a serious case of butterflies. His heart rate was too fast and it had nothing to do with the exertion of walking and more with the excited anticipation of seeing Derek.

He neared the house. He could see figures gathered outside, beaters, gamekeepers with Field Spaniels and black and yellow Labradors. Mr Parrish stood in conversation with one of the gamekeepers and then moved to where Derek stood with his gun bearer. Both gentlemen were dressed for hunting and Derek had his back to Stiles as he approached from the field. He rounded the large Sycamore and slowed, his heart pounding wildly and his bravado all but disappeared. Mr Parrish saw him and his face split into a wide smile. Derek turned to look at what he was smiling at and Stiles saw his eyes widen and a sharp intake of breath. Mr Parrish reached him in a few strides.

"Stiles!" He grinned broadly."This is splendid, have you come to shoot with us?" Derek hurried after him.

For a moment, Stiles was lost for words his eyes fixed on Mr Hale the intensity of his pale eyed gaze forced Stiles to look away.

"No Sir. " Stiles shook his head with a weak smile.

At once Jordan looked anxious."Is there anything wrong? Is your family well?"

"They are quite well Sir. I was hoping if perhaps," he swallowed his mouth suddenly dry, "I might speak a moment with Mr Hale, if it is convenient?" He felt warmth infuse his cheeks.

Mr Parrish looked at his friend. Derek pushed forward. "Of course, I am at your disposal." A warm, indulgent glint appeared in his eyes. "Be a good fellow Parrish and head off and I will join you later."

Jordan shot a look between them and the corners of his mouth twitched. "Capital idea, take your time, no hurry. Nice to see you again Stiles. Please give my warmest regards to your parents and sisters." He bowed and Stiles inclined his head. 

Derek moved beside him as they watched the dogs and men move off.

Derek's eyes strolled over Stiles, taking in his appearance and flushed cheeks. "You came across the fields." He commented casually as he could.

"Yes Sir." Stiles nodded and wondered how he looked, chewing his bottom lip absently.

Derek took in how adorable the boy looked, flushed face, tousled hair and the nervous chewing of his lower lip. He would be so shocked to realise how that one, small act made him want to claim his mouth and bite at that same lip. The concupiscent effect he had on him. "You must have set off quite early."

"Yes," Stiles played nervously with the buttons on his coat hoping that Derek didn't see the tremor in his hands, "straight after breakfast. I walked Allison to the turn off to The Lodge and then walked back to the stile."

Derek nodded.

"I wanted to...."

Derek took his elbow in a firm but not tight right-handed grip. "Shall we go indoors?" He cut him off and gestured and moved to the steps.

Stiles's eyes slithered sideways under his lashes and he glanced at Derek's profile as they mounted the steps. God he was so handsome, confident, self assured, rich. It only made him wonder all the more _why_ Derek was interested in him, if that still applied of course.

If Derek was aware of Stiles's surreptitious scrutiny he made no sign of it. He held his elbow in a gentle but immobile grip and mounted the steps with an inscrutable look on his face. At the top of the steps he opened the door and guided Stiles inside and shut the door behind. Immediately the atmosphere changed between them, morphed into an electric feeling of exhilaration and anticipation that caught Stiles's breath. On hearing the door close a servant appeared with a questioning frown on his face, clearly they were not expected. Derek waved him away, his eyes firmly fixed on Stiles. "You are not required Benson, see to it we are not disturbed." 

With a brief nod he _scampered away_.

Stiles turned his head toward Derek, for some unknown reason his heart rate and breathing increased and his stomach tightened. Derek gazed at him with stormy, green eyes and suddenly the hallway exploded into activity.

"Fuck it!"

Stiles barely had time to gasp at the vehement expletive and he was slammed backward into the wall. His head would have bounced off the plaster had not Derek's left hand been there. Long. Strong fingers twined into the back of his hair and his head was held immobile. Derek's right arm snaked tightly around his waist crushing him against his hard body in front and pushing into the unforgiving wall behind. He was trapped, held prisoner by Derek's hips pinning him to the wall as his mouth was claimed. 

Stiles's first reaction was to fight and he brought his hands to Derek's shoulders to push him away. A heated sense of wonder overtook the fear and instead his slender fingers curled into Derek's shoulders and attempted to pull him closer.

The truth was Derek couldn't get _any_ closer.

Stiles moaned and gave Derek the chance he was looking for, he pushed his tongue into Stiles's mouth and swallowed his deep groan. Stiles had never been kissed like this before, Derek had never kissed him like this before. It was wild and passionate, simmering with desire and barely contained lust. Stiles was at a loss what to do, he only knew he didn't want it to stop and so tentatively his tongue stroked Derek's and together performed a heated, passionate, forbidden dance one with the other. It was all about the touch and sensation. Stiles could feel Derek's hard erection against his stomach and it sent a shiver of fear and anticipation through him and arcing tendrils of _want_ that sparked and flared in his brain.

Derek moaned and murmured against Stiles's lips. "I. Want. You." Each word punctuated with a small press of his hips.

Derek stepped back allowing an inch or two between them and gazed at Stiles, his eyes blazing with desire. He didn't release Stiles's hair or his grip around his waist, but if he struggled he would. Stiles's eyes were too big and bright, his cheeks too flushed and his breathing came in short pants. He was confused, unraveled by the feelings coursing through him. Alien feelings that he didn't understand. The tightening and quickening of his body, the overwhelming urge to touch and be touched. _'I want you'_ what did that even mean? And why did he feel that _he_ wanted Derek too? Wanted more of his lips, his kisses, his touch, his _passion_. 

Oh my! 

Stiles blushed hard.

Derek pushed out a breath. "Will you come upstairs with me?" It was said barely above a whisper but it screamed in Stiles's ears and his eyes slithered nervously toward the stairs. "I will not hurt you and I will do nothing you do not want." Derek vowed quietly.

Stiles looked into his earnest eyes and gasped at the raw unquenchable emotion in them and unspoken plea. Derek nibbled at Stiles puffy, rosy bottom lip. His right hand let go of Stiles hair and his fingers brushed a lock from his eyes and then trailed down his cheek and stilled against the dip of his neck. His touch sending shivers of delight through Stiles's body and awaking memories of the walled garden.

"Please Stiles."

It was the 'please' that undid him and released his heart. He nodded and gave a nervous smile.

Derek released him and took his hand entwining slim fingers with his broader ones. 

Skin against skin. 

It ignited Stiles blood so that heat traveled up his arm and pooled in his stiffening cock.

Derek strode toward the sweeping staircase and Stiles struggled to keep up, feeling ominously that he had left his wits and good sense on the floor of the hall.

Derek's bedroom was large and sumptuously furnished, dominated by a four poster without either canopy or drapes.The posts were dark, polished oak and matched the other furniture in the room. Stiles didn't really take it all in, his mind reeled and vision blurred as his heart pounded and stomach clenched. Derek pulled him to him again and reclaimed is mouth in a lush, deep, searing kiss. He eased back and gazed at him, his eyes bright with desire.

"You are a brave boy." Derek whispered huskily and he meant it. Stiles was risking everything by being with him and if his suit wasn't true, Stiles's would be a greater disgrace and tragedy than Erica could ever manage. "Let me make love to you?" He pleaded in an aching whisper.

Stiles's blood flamed anew at his words. Derek claimed his mouth again, sucking and nibbling on his bottom lip. He groaned softly and let his forehead rest against Stiles, his arms around his waist and Stiles's hands caressing his shoulders. Stiles shuddered at the rawness of his voice and his stomach clenched in excited and fearful anticipation.

"Yes," he whispered with a nod, not really understanding what he was agreeing to. His breathing became quick and shallow, he couldn't take his eyes of the magnificent brunette. What was he going to do? Would it be like in the walled garden or something different? He couldn't pull his dark eyes from him.

Derek shrugged out of his jacket and laid it over the back of a chair. Then he sat in the chair and removed his boots and put them beside it. Quickly he stood and unfastened his cravat and let it flutter to the floor. He undid the top buttons of his shirt and slid the braces from his shoulders. He pulled the shirt from his breeches and over his head in one, fluid movement. He was wearing no underwear and his flawless, muscled chest made Stiles gasp and stagger, weak kneed and dizzy. Derek unfastened and let his breeches fall and kicked them away. Stiles fixed his eyes on Derek's feet, long, slender, almost fragile toes.

"Stiles?" His voice drew Stiles's eyes upward. Over shapely legs, strong thighs, heavy, lightly furred balls, a long, plump, erect cock it's flushed, glistening head peeping from a velvet foreskin, lean hips, rippling abdomen and chiseled, lightly furred chest to his face. His eyes bathed him in heated admiration. "Do you want the curtains drawn?"

The sound of Derek's voice made him start. "What?" Stiles blinked at him.

"Some people like the curtains drawn, do you?"

Stiles suppressed a near hysterical giggle. He'd never done this before. How did he know if he wanted the curtains drawn or not?

Derek arched an elegant eyebrow. 

"I do not know." He answered softly, with a small shrug.

Derek strolled toward him, confident in his nudity and unembarrassed, a sexy roll to his shoulders and eyes alight with a sensuous flame. Stiles felt his heart pound, blood scream through his veins and settle, hot, heavy, aching, pooled in his groin.

Was this what desire felt like? 

Derek stopped in front of him. "Relax, breathe." His hands stroked Stiles arms.

"I've never..." Stiles voice faded.

Derek nodded once. "Let us lose these, eh?"

Deft fingers quickly unfastened Stiles's cravat and tossed it into a chair. He skimmed strong hands over his shoulders and eased off his jacket and threw it into the same chair.

"Have you any idea how handsome you are Stiles Stilinski? How much I desire you?" Derek whispered and unfastened his waistcoat and slid it off, catching his braces and pulling them off his shoulders at the same time. "Have you any idea what I am going to do to you?" Derek dragged the back of his knuckles down his cheek. Stiles closed his eyes and leaned into the touch.

The muscles in his stomach and buttocks clenched. He opened his eyes and was instantly hypnotized by the intense gaze of the eyes blazing into his. He hardly felt Derek unfasten his breeches until they pooled around his ankles and warm fingers skimmed over his erect cock. Derek skated his hands down his thighs, legs and knelt, his head level with Stiles cock. He looked up and held Stiles's eyes with his and his pink tongue licked a stripe up his throbbing cock. Stiles's knees buckled with a loud groan and he was held up by Derek's hands on his hips and his hands braced against Derek's shoulders. 

Derek's hands slid around and squeezed the fleshy globes of Stiles backside and then down his legs to his feet. He picked up each foot in turn and removed his shoes allowing his breeches to fall to the floor. Derek pulled both his shoes and breeches away. Derek stood slowly, dragging his hands up his body, When he was standing he took Stiles in his arms and crushed him to his chest squeezing him almost painfully tight. His mouth slanted over Stiles mouth and he gave him a demanding kiss, his tongue and lips coaxing Stiles to open to him.

Stiles moaned into the kiss and buried both his hands in Derek's thick hair while desire quickened deep inside him. Derek's hand skimmed down Stiles spine and rested on his buttocks and squeezed. He held him to his body and they both pushed their erections into the other with a quickening tempo and spiraling groans. Stiles's feelings rampaged through his body robbing him of his shyness and reserve. He gripped Derek's upper arms feeling his biceps, strong, muscular. Stiles felt himself pushed backward toward the bed until he felt the edge hit the back of his knees and expected to be pushed backward, instead Derek dropped to his knees and swirled his tongue around his belly button and then kissed and nipped across to one hip and then the other and back. He buried his nose in his pubic hair beside his erection so that his soft, black hair caressed it and made Stiles moan. He inhaled deeply learning Stiles's musky, male scent. 

Derek's fingers gently separated Stiles cheeks and broad fingers caressed Stiles's sweet, flexing entrance.

Stiles gazed down in awe at the man on his knees, his hands flexing on his shoulders, hooded eyes gazed up at him through a curtain of dark lashes. Seeing Derek on his knees in front of him gave him a feeling of power that was a compelling aphrodisiac. His cock hardened further and the mushroom head peeped, drooling from it's velvet sheath. Derek kept on caressing Stiles's entrance.

"You are so sexy." Derek moaned huskily.

Stiles's knees buckled. 

Instantly Derek was on his feet, pulling the bedding onto the floor until only the under sheet and pillows remained. Then he gave Stiles a gentle push and he folded onto the bed and Derek grabbed one foot. Stiles pushed himself up onto his elbows so that he could see. Derek nipped at the fleshy pads of his toes with his teeth and then taking his foot by the heel ran his nail up his instep. The result was exquisite pain that made Stiles gasp, fall back and writhe as the feeling traveled from his instep to his groin. 

How did Derek _do_ that? 

Derek grabbed the other foot and by the time he repeated the act Stiles was a totally boneless, writhing mess. He heard Derek's soft chuckle through his moans and the opening of the bedside drawer as he drew out a small bottle of oil and placed it on the bed.

Suddenly he grasped each ankle and yanked Stiles's legs apart and settled in between on the bed. He reached for the spare pillows.

"Up!" He commanded sharply.

Vaguely Stiles thought 'how bossy', but raised his hips as Derek pushed the pillows under him. His hips were cantered upward. Derek hovered over him.

"Keep still." He murmured and trailed kisses up the inside of Stiles's leg, to his balls. Nuzzled the furry globes with his nose and kissed the tip of his cock and then trailed kisses down his other leg and ran his teeth up his instep. At the exquisite sensation Stiles arched off the bed.

"Ah!" 

Derek dipped his tongue into his navel and then trailed kisses cross his belly torso and headed North.

Stiles's skin felt alternatively too hot, too cold, it prickled, needle sharp flashes of pain. His fingers scrabbled at the sheet beneath him. Derek took the right nipple into his mouth and lashed it with his tongue the left he rolled between finger and thumb and then changed over until both were deliciously sore, crinkled and hard. Their nubs erect, elongated, sensitive. Suddenly he tugged one nipple with his fingers, one with his teeth.

"Ahhh!" Stiles arched upward again with a sharp cry. Derek kept up the distracting assault as one, slick finger eased into him. Stiles hardly noticed swimming as he was in a sea of sensation, it was only one more. Derek kept up the abuse, bombarding Stiles with sensations until his body hummed. He kissed his way down his body and Stiles gripped the sheet as tight as he could as Derek's mouth descended on his cock.

Derek bobbed his head up and down, enough to distract Stiles from his fingers but not enough to make him orgasm. He wanted to be buried inside him when that happened, Stiles sweet muscles clamping on him, his silky, hot channel milking his orgasm from him with powerful contraction after contraction.

Two fingers and Stiles's breathing hitched and then he groaned and relaxed, humping Derek's mouth. He moved his fingers in and out beginning to thrust in time to his bobbing head. Stiles cried out as he did it over and over. Three fingers dripping with oil pushed deep inside him and it was an exquisite pain. Stiles groaned until Derek swept his tongue over the head of his cock and then pulled off, leaving Stiles punching the empty air as he flexed his fingers in the sheet. Derek could wait no longer, Stiles's was as prepared as he could make him and his own need was growing painfully desperate.

He pulled his fingers out and for a moment Stiles was left bewildered until he saw Derek slicking his cock hurriedly with oil. He licked his lips unconsciously as he watched. His stomach tightened and heart pounded, blood coursed, too hot, too fast through his veins.

Derek moved between his legs and pulled them further apart. He knelt up and saw Stiles's eyes fixed on his cock and chuckled. "Do not worry, it will fit. " Stiles's eyes flickered to his. "Trust me." He breathed and Stiles did. "Pull your knees up, feet flat on the bed," he ordered brusquely.

Stiles was quick to comply.

"I'm going to fuck you now Mr Stilinski." Derek's eyes held him as he stroked his own slick cock. "Relax."

Relax? Stiles gasped at the crude words dripping silkily from Derek's elegant mouth, he felt terrified and thrilled at the same time. He could hardly breathe, his stomach was in knots and his chest tight, his breathing came quick and shallow, his vision blurred. He felt Derek place his cock at his entrance and then lunging forward, slamming into him.

"Arghhhh!" The pain was a bright, white light behind his screwed up eyes.

Instantly Derek stilled. Buried to the hilt inside him, balls resting against his.

Stiles opened his eyes swimming with tears and saw Derek gazing down at him with a look approaching triumph in his eyes. It was disconcerting and the sudden pain had punched the breath out of his lungs and he couldn't speak.

"It is better done quickly." Derek murmured lips against his. "The pain will go."

That was easy for him to say. Stiles had nothing in his experience to compare it too. He blinked rapidly.

"Breathe deeply." Derek instructed and Stiles did as he was told. His lips parted and the look of triumph was replaced with one of heart rendering tenderness. "Are you alright?"

That single look sent a wave of relief though him. The shock dissipated and Derek was right the pain lessened. It still felt like he had an iron bar inside him but his body fought to accommodate it. Derek took Stiles flagging erection in his hand and in a few strokes he was hard again and experimentally pressing back onto Derek's hard length. 

"Alright?"

Stiles nodded tentatively. He felt so full, stretched and grasped Derek's forearms realising he was letting him get used to having him inside him.

"Stiles I _have_ to move." Derek murmured hoarsely

His voice came out choked, tight and Stiles realised how much strain it was for Derek not to begin thrusting. He squeezed his trembling forearms.

Derek eased back with exquisite care and then thrust forward. Stiles cried out again, but not as sharply as the first time and his erection remained firm.

"Again?"

Stiles nodded and again Derek eased back and thrust forward.

This time Stiles just grunted and flexed to meet him.

"More?"

"Yes." Stiles found his voice and he realised he _wanted_ this.

Derek repeated the movement, but this time he didn't stop. He shifted onto his elbows letting some of his weight rest on Stiles. Stiles's erection rubbing slickly against his muscled abdomen.

Derek shut his eyes and groaned into each thrust. As Stiles got used to the feeling, his hips moved tentatively to meet each thrust and his groans mixed with Derek's. Derek sped up, pounding into him, neither of them likely to last long. He kept on, a relentless, rhythmic twist, swing, sway and thrust of his hips and together they found a tempo that bound their bodies.

"Put your knees as high as you can around my back." Derek panted hoarsely.

Stiles complied and Derek's hips snapped and twisted as he pounded faster, harder.

Stiles felt something building within him, heat uncoiling in his belly and snaking through his body sending him soaring higher and higher to the pinnacle of pleasure. His muscles tightened and wound tighter and tighter and like an over wound spring he shattered apart screaming Derek's name, exploding in a cascade of fiery sensations . He shattered into a million pieces as he unraveled under Derek, a sheen of sweat glistening over his body. Derek continued to thrust, his breath coming in hoarse, ragged pants and then he thrust and stilled holding himself deep as he came, crying Stiles's name.

Stiles panted, eyes closed as he fought to bring his quivering body under control. 

That was unexpected! Gloriously unexpected. He opened his eyes and Derek was still laid over him, his forehead resting against Stiles, eyes closed, breathing still laboured and ragged. His face was relaxed, mouth slack he looked peaceful, sated. His eyes opened slowly and they were no longer wild but a calm clear, pale green and looked at him tenderly. He was still buried inside Stiles and kissed his forehead, pulling out slowly he rolled to the side and onto his back. 

Stiles winced a little and then groaned at the feeling of emptiness.

Derek sank back into the feather mattress, with his eyes closed. His chest heaved and he couldn't help the rather smug smile that played around his mouth. It wasn't unkind, anything but that. He just couldn't help but congratulate himself on finally getting a halter on his dark colt. He would gentle him, make him less argumentative and stubborn.

Of course he did not yet realise that, that was part of the reason why he loved the boy so much, but he would. 

He opened his eyes and looked at Stiles staring at the ceiling, he could see from his profile that reason was beginning to creep back into his mind and with it the realization of what he had done. His breathing quickened and the colour built in his cheeks, his brow furrowed but before the boy panicked Derek pulled him to him and enveloped him in his arms.

"It's alright." He stoked his hair and pressed his lips to his brow. "Are you hurting?"

Stiles's cheeks flooded with colour. His body ached, his legs, stomach, hips and his backside felt bruised, sore. It was uncomfortable but not exactly unpleasant.

"I ache a bit," he ducked his head, "feel sore."

Derek chuckled and Stiles gave him a speculative look.

"It will go off soon enough." Derek assured him, certain that he'd done no more than bruise him a little.

"Is, is it always like that?" Stiles stammered.

"No," Derek answered truthfully. "You will get used to it."

Stiles felt delight roll through him, Derek intended to do it again!

"It will not pain as much and there are other things we can do, other ways we can pleasure each other."

Stiles suddenly came to the realization that Derek had done this before, probably many times, with other men... With Theo Raeken. Suppose Derek now rejected him, he was undone, disgraced in a way far worse than anything Erica had done. His family, his siblings, Lydia would be forever tainted and condemned by his ill judged impropriety.

"You've done this with other men haven't you? With Raeken?" There was a bitter edge to his voice.

Derek sighed. "This you already know."

"Others?"

"Yes."

"Many?"

"Some, not many. I told you my father was determined I should do my duty and go into society. For four or five years I attended House Parties." He looked at Stiles. "You are familiar with the term?"

"Yes. Long parties during the Summer months given at large country houses." Stiles displayed his knowledge.

"Their main purpose is so that men and women of suitable age and status can meet under controlled conditions and hopefully pair up. The women are accompanied by chaperones." Derek added. "I of course was largely a disinterested spectator to the amusing spectacle. However I quickly found that on each occasion there were one or two like minded men. They were like myself, young men from good families with reputations to protect and family honour to uphold. We knew the relationships were of a temporary nature and not to be taken seriously. They ended when the party broke up and were never talked of."

Stiles looked at him. It sounded cold, almost callous and did nothing to quiet his anxiety. His brow furrowed. "It sounds very cold, calculating."

"It was sex and nothing more. " Derek answered simply. At once he saw the fearful look in Stiles's eyes, was that all he was? He lowered his lips to Stiles's in a sweet kiss. "No Stiles, it is not just sex between us, this is _not_ a temporary liaison, but one I wish to make permanent." He whispered. He felt as well as saw Stiles relax into his arms.

For a while they just lay together as the morning sunlight streamed through the window and warmed the room. Derek got up at one point and fetched a damp flannel and towel from the vanity unit. Stiles's eyes tracked him across the room. The man was beautiful, not just his face his whole body. He moved with the lithe grace of a cat, his skin was bronzed, flawless; his body lean, powerful, firm and muscled. His hands and feet long, strong and there was great power in his grip as Stiles had bruises to testify. His cock even flaccid, was of good length and girth, but not freakishly large, the foreskin darker than the rest of his body . His balls were plump plumbs and lightly furred, the hair at his groin dark as on his head but wiry curls. He was lost in speechless admiration. To Stiles's dismay, embarrassment and eventual delight, Derek cleaned him up and then himself. He threw the bedding back onto the bed and climbed in beside Stiles and they held each other, drifted in a light sleep and enjoyed the morning in each other's company.

Stiles's fingers traced a lazy pattern on Derek's muscled chest. "I thought I'd never see you again." He said with a touch of sadness.

Derek grunted and opened his eyes lazily. "Why?"

"The way you left me in Derbyshire it seemed as though you were saying goodbye." Stiles looked into his face.

Derek frowned. 

"I was shocked and angry. though not at you, don't ever think that. " He hurriedly assured him. "I thought you wanted to be alone and I was at a loss to know what to do." Derek explained quietly putting his hand over Stiles's. and pressing it to his chest.

Stiles smiled. "That's not quite the truth though, is it?"

Derek's eyes narrowed slightly. "Oh?"

"Derek, I know."

Derek pulled away from him slightly and pushed himself up onto the pillows.

"Know? Know what?" He frowned.

Stiles mirrored his movement and pushed himself up.

"I know it was you found Erica, I know you made Raeken marry her and took care of all the arrangements. Father said he was a fool if he took her with less than ten thousand pounds and there were his debts......"

Stiles watched Derek's face change into something unfathomable, but he didn't look pleased.

"I, I came to say how grateful I was, on behalf of my family." Stiles said tentatively.

Derek's eyes hardened.

"Erica!" He spat. "It might have been expected she would not keep the secret."

"The fault is mine. She was taking of the wedding and only mentioned your attendance." Stiles protested, "I was intrigued and badgered my aunt until she revealed the details."

"I take it given the way your mother addressed me, your parents are ignorant of my part in the affair?" Derek snapped.

"Yes," Stiles confirmed, "I would not reveal it."

"That at least is something. It is not their business."

Stiles's eyebrows rose. In his opinion it was _very_ much their business.

"I did not do it for Erica or for them." Derek continued. "I did it for purely selfish reasons concerning yourself."

Stiles's eyebrows rose higher.

"I could not allow the Hale name to be associated with anyone whose sister had behaved in such a wanton and bohemian manner. Her impropriety and disgrace could not be endured. Also I felt partly responsible. Had I warned against Raeken when I first set eyes upon him in Mereton the whole debacle would have been averted. Mine was the responsibility and I had the means and resources to correct the situation, so I did." He shrugged.

Stiles's first reaction of anger that he was not good enough to be associated with Derek because of Erica, quickly dissipated. He would not want Miss Hale tainted by Erica's behaviour either.

"Nevertheless you must allow me to express my family's gratitude to you, for they cannot do it themselves." He reasoned.

"I must not." Derek glared at him. "For they owe me none, neither do you."

"Sir, " Stiles frowned, "you take too much upon yourself."

"That is for me to decide." Derek cast him an irritated look and then his eyes narrowed."Is that why you came? Out of a sense of misplaced gratitude?"

"I came because I wanted to see you, to find out how things lay between us." Stiles gestured. "You came to the house and spoke not a word to me, your manner said one thing, your eyes another."

"I was enduring an attack from your mother." Stiles sighed, that was true enough. "I had no way of knowing what, if anything your family knew. And by the same token you did not speak to me." Derek reminded him.

"Anyway," Stiles huffed, "that is why I came and to express my gratitude as well, we can _never_ repay you."

An angry look crossed Derek's face. " _Is_ that the reason you are here, in my bed? Is this the way you show your gratitude and repay me by giving yourself to me?" His voice was cold and sharp.

Stiles felt as if he'd been punched. "What?" His mouth fell open. "No!"

"Are you sure Stiles?"

Anger, hot and violent bubbled within him. Stiles's cheeks flushed and his eyes glittered. "I came to see you, but I cannot for the life of me think why I bothered!" He swung his legs out of bed and reached for his shirt and dragged it on and reached for his breeches. "Next you will accuse me of only being here because of your wealth!" 

"Well, " Derek snapped irritably, "is it the truth?"

Stiles stood, pushing his feet into his shoes and spun to face Derek. "My first impressions of you were correct. You are proud, arrogant, disdainful and presumptuous." He spat venomously, buttoning his breeches and shirt quickly. "You are a hateful man and tar everyone with the same brush as yourself." He pulled his braces onto his shoulders and shrugged into his waistcoat. "I do not care a jot for your status, wealth or connections," he dragged on his coat, " and your precious Nemerton can crumble to dust! Only I hope it does not because it is very splendid and Miss Hale deserves it even if you do not." He added hurriedly and grabbed his cravat from the floor.

"Have you quite finished?" A smile played around the corners of Derek's mouth and he held out his hand. "Come back to bed."He coaxed.

Stiles couldn't believe it, Derek was amused! He spun around and marched to the bedroom door and yanked it open and turned to Derek.

"You are wrong Mr Hale, I place a greater value on myself than ten thousand pounds!" It was said with and icy calm.

"Stiles..." It came out on an exasperated breath.

Stiles passed through the door and slammed it behind him.

With a groan Derek flopped back onto the mattress and put his left arm over his eyes. 

Drat the wretched boy!

Stiles stomped down the stairs fastening his waistcoat and then his coat as he went. A servant appeared and seeing Stiles's thunderous face, nervously bowed and opened the front door.

"Good day Sir." The servant bowed.

"What? Oh, " Stiles nodded. "Thank you. Good day."

Stiles squinted in the sunlight and went down Lake House's long stone steps and onto the graveled drive. He pushed his cravat into his pocket. He couldn't tie his cravat neatly without a mirror and would just say walking made him too hot to wear it.

The crunch of his feet on the gravel drew Derek to the window, wrapped in a sheet. He was very tempted to fling the window open and call down to him but he didn't. He ducked back quickly when Stiles looked up, but didn't see him. He was satisfied, more than.The boy's tirade had obliterated any small doubt he had that Stiles was sacrificing himself for the good of his family or out of gratitude. He loved him for himself, even with all his many and varied faults! They would have a fine life together, passionate, stormy maybe and certainly not boring. He had to go to London for a couple of days but when he returned he fully intended to march into Beacon and lay claim to his boy. When the father saw how much he loved him he was bound to give his consent to him becoming his Companion.

Stiles marched purposefully across the field, every step he took reminded him graphically of Derek and what they had done. His body ached and his buttocks clenched at the delightful soreness and feeling of being _well used_. In less than a quarter of a mile his anger evaporated to be replaced with a deep ache in his belly that had nothing to do with what he _had_ done and a whole lot to do with what he _wanted_ to do....... With Derek. The Bible might say it was wrong, but he never set much store by the Old Testament anyway and if it was wrong, why had the Good Lord made it so.... enjoyable? 

Yes, once he had gotten over the shock he had enjoyed it. If only he'd taken Derek's hand and gone back to bed...But he _was_ annoyed at him. On the other hand he could see where a man like Derek so wealthy and powerful would think that people only wanted his association because of his money. There were some advantages to not being wealthy not many, but some. His walking slowed and he looked longingly back the way he had come. Had he gone to him out of gratitude? Yes, but that was certainly not why he had ended up in Derek's bed. He was there because he _wanted_ to be.

He certainly valued himself at more than ten thousand pounds!

Climbing the stile made his buttocks clench and reminded him of Derek slamming into him. Tendrils of desire unfurled in his groin and he moaned and attracted a strange look from the passing driver of a hay cart. Cheeks flaming he hurried up the lane. He stopped for a while and rested his forehead against the knotted, broad trunk of a towering Oak and thought about what he was going to do. He kicked at the tree despondently, wishing with all his heart he had not given vent to his temper. He had insulted Derek in the worst possible way, whatever there might have been between them was surely dead. Derek was not a man to take such things lightly. 

God, he had called him a hateful man!

He groaned and gave the tree another kick. He would never see him again and he best be resolved to it. The only thing he could do was start a new life in London. Accept his uncle's offer of a job and lodge with them at Gracechurch Street. He would never forget Derek, he would never forget the morning they spent together but as the years went by he might be able to remember it more with cheerfulness than sorrow. He would miss Beacon and Lydia, though it was likely she would not reside there much longer anyway. He would miss Allison and Isaac and his parents but at eighteen it was time to sort out the path his life would take and this was, perhaps for the best. 

If it was for the best why did he feel like curling into a corner and crying?

Lydia was watching out for his return and spied him coming over the field and ran out to greet him smiling broadly.

She took in his disheveled appearance and less than cheerful air.

"Well?" She asked cautiously. "How did it go? Did you speak to Mr Hale?"

Stiles slowed but he did not stop walking toward the house.

"I spoke to him." He replied soberly.

"And?" Lydia prompted.

Stiles halted. "We quarreled. If there ever was anything between us it is ended. I shall not see him again." He returned to walking toward the house.

"Oh!" Crestfallen Lydia stared after him.

 

That evening in Lake House's billiard room Derek took his shot and sunk a red whilst Jordan chalked his cue.

"How long will you be in London Derek?"

"I shall leave very early tomorrow morning. I have business that is of a most urgent nature and cannot be delayed." He sighed. "I will be gone no longer than two days."

"When you return, will you spend the next few weeks here?" Jordan asked watching as Derek missed a blue. 

"I am at you disposal Jordan." He answered with a nod.

Jordan grinned and missed the blue. He watched as Derek lined up his shot. "Splendid! The mother terrifies me."

Derek leaned across the table and looked up at him.

"She is sent from hell to take vengeance on all men." He grinned. "But together we will subdue her."

He sunk the blue.


	12. Chapter 12

It was barely dawn. Derek bounded down Lake House's sweeping staircase already dressed for traveling, Jordan at his heels.

"Derek! Hold up, you cannot just make a statement like that and walk off!"

Derek halted at the foot of the stars with a sigh.

"What more is there to say?"

Jordan crossed his hands behind his back and tried to look at his friend sternly.

"You seriously mean to tell me you _knew_ Lydia was staying at Gracechurch Street all those months I was miserable and did not tell me of it?"

"Yes, I did," Derek confirmed, "though to be fair so did your sisters."

Jordan snorted."They never tell me anything, I am used to that. But you, I expected better from."

Derek looked chastened. 

"I can offer no justification, it was an arrogant presumption on my part borne of a failure to appreciate the depth of your feelings and Miss Stilinski. I had no right and should not have interfered." A servant held his long coat and he shrugged it on and made for the door Jordan following. "I can only ask your forgiveness and that of Miss Stilinski."

The servant opened the door and he swept through Jordan in his wake as they both bounded down the stone steps toward the waiting carriage. Derek halted and turned toward his friend.

"It was abominable bad manners of me to interfere in such a manner and I apologise without reservation." Derek almost laughed at the look of shock on Jordan's face.

Parrish crossed his hands behind his back and regarded him solemnly.

"You are admitting you were wrong?" Jordan asked cautiously.

"Without reservation." Derek responded promptly.

Jordan grinned. "Then I have your blessing?"

"Parrish, you do not _need_ my blessing." Derek rested his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I know," Jordan nodded, "but I should like to know I have it all the same." He gave a small shrug.

Derek squeezed his shoulder. "Miss Stilinski is a beautiful and proper young woman despite her wretched mother and the headstrong brother. " He smiled. "You have my blessing." He slapped his friend's shoulder. "Go to it man!" He encouraged with a grin. "And when I return I shall lay claim to her brother." He climbed into the carriage.

"Despite him being headstrong?" Jordan grinned closing the carriage door.

"Because of it." Derek grinned.

Jordan stepped back. "Have a good journey."

Derek nodded."Drive on!" He called and the carriage rolled away down the drive. Jordan watched as it disappeared and then sprung into action and turned to a servant.

"My horse! Have my horse saddled at once! I must ride for Beacon. Hurry man there isn't a minute to lose!"

The servant hurried away.

Ten minutes later Jordan trotted briskly in the early morning sun along the lane to Beacon.

 

Stiles was up early and dressed. He'd slept little, his head felt woolly and there were dark circles under his eyes and his face was drawn. He'd completed his letter to his aunt and uncle and would leave for London within the month, all being well. He only had to give it to the Postmaster in Mereton and his future was assured.

Strangely, it gave him no pleasure.

In her room Lydia had just awoken. She sat on the end of her bed and began to release her hair from the long, single plait she wore it in for sleeping. Mr Stilinski was already in his library, Isaac was asleep and Allison was being attended by Hill and Sarah as she dressed.

There was the sound of hurrying feet and his mother's loud shrieking.

"He is come! He is come! Mr Parrish is riding up the drive. Lydia! Lydia!" She threw herself into Lydia's room, her startled daughter stared at her.

"Mamma what is it?"

"Do not just sit there girl! Get dressed He is come, Mr Parrish is come!" Mrs Stilinski gestured wildly and Lydia gazed at her dumfounded.

"So early?" Lydia frowned.

"There is only one reason why a gentleman calls so early!" Mrs Stilinski bounced and clapped her hands. "He follows his heart!" She added with a grin.

Lydia's eyes widened.

"Do not just sit there girl" Get dressed!" Her mother urged. "Wear the muslin!"

Stiles came out of his room to find what all the commotion was about and was almost knocked over by his mother.

"Do get out of the way Stiles!" She pushed by him. "Hill! Hill" Sarah!" She raced along the hall."Leave off Miss Allison and go into Miss Lydia!"

Stiles blinked after her and saw Lydia's door was open and his sister sitting, stunned on the end of her bed. He knocked and stuck his head in.

"Are you alright?" 

Lydia looked at him owlishly.

"Oh Stiles, Mr Parrish has come, mamma thinks....." She spoke barely above a whisper.

Stiles grinned. "Well, it is about time......"

Lydia looked at him beseechingly. "Promise you will not leave me alone."

Stiles smiled. "I promise."

Stiles was pushed aside by his mother. "Get out of the way Stiles, you are always underfoot!" She rushed into the room followed by Hill and the maid Sarah. 

The door was slammed in his face.

 

Twenty minutes later they were all in the drawing room. Lydia, Isaac and Stiles sat on the wooden backed chaise, Allison on an upright chair and Mrs Stilinski and Mr Parrish sat opposite the chaise in arm chairs, Mr Parrish directly opposite Lydia. They cast each other shy glances and a tense silence prevailed.

When Stiles first heard Mr Parrish was coming he held a small sliver of hope Derek would be with him, but it was soon dashed. He sat and chewed his bottom lip barely able to contain himself and at last he gave way, he _had_ to know.

"Mr Hale does not accompany you today Sir?"

Jordan looked at him. "No, he left for London very early on urgent business that could not be delayed." Jordan explained.

"Oh, I see." Stiles gave a weak smile and Lydia gave him a sympathetic glance.

"I expect him back the day after tomorrow." Jordan added seeing Stiles's crestfallen face.

"Oh," Stiles nodded and Lydia smiled.

The tense silence descended again. Mrs Stilinski shuffled and winked at Stiles and motioned with her head toward the door. Stiles steadfastly ignored her. She repeated the motion to Allison. Allison frowned. She winked and jerked her head again. Isaac looked between his mother and his siblings and his frown deepened.

"Mamma, what is wrong?" He asked tentatively. "Why are you winking and jerking your head? What is it you want us to do?"

Mr Parrish looked at Mrs Stilinski speculatively.

"Winking? Winking at you child? Why on earth would I wink at my own children?" She gave a nervous laugh."Stupid notion." She protested.

Silence fell for a beat.

"Though now you mention it child, it puts me in mind that I _do_ need to speak to you all." She stood. "You too Stiles, I need to speak to you too."

Isaac and Allison stood. Mrs Stilinski smiled and nodded to Mr Parrish.

"Pray excuse us a moment Sir."

Parrish stood and bowed.

"Of course Ma'am."

Mrs Stilinski ushered them out of the room and shut the door. Stiles gave an embarrassed smile and slid to the end of the chaise, picked up a book from the table and turned his back, pretending to be totally absorbed in his reading. A moment past and then the sound of hurrying feet and Hill pushed the door open looking flustered.

"Beg your pardon Master Stiles, your mother wants you upstairs right away Sir."

Stiles put his book down with a sigh, his mother was as subtle as a brick. He cast an apologetic smile toward Lydia and nodded toward Jordan and went to the door. He lent his head in as he closed it and mouthed _' sorry'_ to Lydia and then closed the door.

His mother and sister and brother were sitting in his mother's private drawing room upstairs. Mrs Stilinski wore a smug, self-satisfied look, Isaac read from the Bible, Allison had some embroidery. The air was thick with tension and anticipation. Stiles took a seat and waited.

Minutes ticked by, fifteen, twenty, half an hour. Stiles fidgeted. "Mother, let me go down to Lydia, I gave my word I would not leave her alone." He pleaded.

His mother pursed her lips. "Five more minutes will do the trick!"

Five minutes past and Stiles was on his feet and out the door before his mother could stop him. He bounded down the stairs and then crept toward the drawing room door. He listened, there was no sounds from inside. Stealing himself he grasped the door handle and pushed.

"Lydia I....." 

Mr Parrish and Lydia jumped apart guiltily.

"Oh God!" Stiles's cheeks flamed red. "I am sorry............" He backed hurriedly out of the door.

"Stiles!" They called in unison, both laughing. "Do not go."

Mr Parrish leaned in and whispered in Lydia's ear and she nodded with a smile. He turned to Stiles. "I have to speak to your father, where may I find him?"

"The library," Stiles replied. "Hill will show you."

"Excuse me." Jordan inclined his head.

Stiles nodded and watched him leave and close the door. He looked at Lydia.

"Well?"

"He loves me!" She grinned and her eyes glistened with tears of joy. "He always did. It was not his idea to stay so long in London and he did not know I stayed at Gracechurch Street or he would have called."

Stiles embraced her. "I am _so_ happy for you." He smiled, holding her hands in his. "He is a good man and you will be very happy."

"I feel as though my heart will burst with joy." She laughed. "He has gone to ask father for my hand. I must go and tell mamma."

Stiles laughed."She will be _very_ happy. He opened the door for her and watched as she made her way hurriedly upstairs. New lives awaited them both, Lydia's as Mrs Parrish and his in London. 

He blinked back a tear.

Mr Parrish spent the rest of the day at Beacon. Mr Stilinski of course gave his permission and he and Mr Parrish had several long talks throughout the day. He played quoits and croquette and paired with Stiles against Lydia and Allison in a game of battledore. He and Stiles pushed Lydia and Allison on the garden swings and then he walked alone in the garden with Lydia whilst Stiles brooded and thought about Derek. He ate breakfast, lunch and dinner with them and was fussed, fretted and drooled over by Mrs Stilinski whenever he went indoors.

He left shortly before nine in the evening and was seen on his way by the father, mother, Lydia and Stiles.

"Come back tomorrow Sir, if you can bear it." Mr Stilinski chuckled as he walked Jordan to his horse. "Come and shoot with me if you will, Stiles will not, he faints at the sight of blood."

"Father!" Stiles blushed.

Jordan turned."There's no shame to it, you have a gentle heart like your sister." He cast Lydia a loving look which she returned.

"There are few men whose society I can stand for long periods of time and I believe you may turn out to be one of them." Mr Stilinski nodded.

Jordan beamed. "Thank you Sir,I shall be most happy to."

"Very well,very well. Now be off with you." Mr Stilinski smiled.

Jordan gave Lydia one last look, bowed to Mrs Stilinski and gathered his horse's reins in one hand as he was boosted into the saddle.

"Until tomorrow." He tipped his hat and kicked his horse into a smart trot. Lydia watched him out of sight a smile playing around her lips. Her father drew her to one side.

"I believe you will be very happy my dear," he kissed her forehead, "which is no more than you deserve. He is quite the most amiable of creatures and so are you. Nothing shall ever be decided between you. Every servant will rob you blind and your generosity will mean you always exceed your income!" He chuckled.

"Exceed their income indeed! What rot!" Mrs Stilinski huffed. "He has _five thousand_ a year!" She giggled happily. "And he is the most handsome man ever to boot." She hugged Lydia and then went indoors on her husband's arm.

Lydia cast a glance at Stiles looking so forlorn. She went to him and took his hands in hers.

"I wish you could be as happy as I."

Stiles gave a sad smile."Until I am a good as you, I do not deserve your happiness."

Lydia squeezed his hands. "Poppycock!"

"You are bound for a new life as Mrs Parrish and I am bound for our uncle's business in London." Stiles squeezed back.

She thread her arm through his.

"But you do not fool me, it is not what you really want." She said sadly.

"No it is not what I really want." Stiles confirmed. "What I really want I shall never have and it is largely my own doing."

"Oh Stiles," Lydia sighed, "you heard Mr Parrish, Mr Hale returns the day after tomorrow."

"It does not matter, " he answered with a shake of his head,"he will never want me now but... If I am _very_ lucky I might meet another man like cousin Daehler."

"Oh Stiles!" Lydia exclaimed in horror as they went into the house.

 

Mr Parrish arrived at mid morning the next day in a smart carriage and suggested that they all drove to the market town of Ashburn some ten or so miles distant. Stiles declined but Allison was eager to accompany them and act as chaperone. So Mr Parrish, Lydia and Allison left almost immediately.

After lunch Stiles was in his room and his father left to attend business on a nearby farm. Stiles sat looking at the letter laid on his bedside table. It needed to go in the post and had just resolved to walk to the Postmaster in Mereton when there was a noise downstairs and Isaac calling out shrilly.

Isaac _never_ made a racket and he rushed to the stairs.

"Mamma! Stiles! Quickly! " Isaac gasped. "The most splendid carriage has turned into the drive!"

Stiles and his mother rushed to join him looking out of the drawing room window.

The carriage had drawn up and was very large. It was splendid in red and black, pulled by six greys and had the benefit of liveried postilion, driver and two footmen who clung to the rear of the coach. Mrs Stilinski and Stiles cast each other quizzical looks. Suddenly there was a commotion from the hallway and voices reached them.

"What an _extremely_ small house and totally inadequate hall!"

"If your Lordship will wait but a moment the Master is not at home and I will announce you to the Mistress."

"Wait? I most certainly will not wait! I am not used to waiting. Where is she? Through here? Is this the drawing room?"

Stiles paled as he recognised Lord Peter 's voice.

The door flew inward and a flustered Hill flung herself in front of Lord Peter.

"Lord Peter madam, Duke of Cockfosters!" She glared as Lord Peter swept past her and shut the door with more force then was needed. For a moment Stiles thought his mother would faint.

Lord Peter was dressed for traveling in great coat and tall hat, he carried a black, gold handled cane. He gazed around the room assessing it and the occupants shrewdly as they gaped at him. He spied the most comfortable chair, made for it and sat down. Stiles moved in front of him and his Lordship's blue eyes looked him up and down coldly.

"I suppose _that_ lady is your mother?" He nodded at Mrs Stilinski who for once appeared struck dumb. 

Stiles frowned, why was _he_ here? "Yes Sir she is. Mamma this is Lord Peter , your Lordship may I present my mother Mrs Stilinski." He gestured between them.

Mrs Stilinski curtsied, Lord Peter did not acknowledge her.

"I suppose that boy there to be your other son Ma'am?" Lord Peter nodded at Isaac.

"He is your Lordship, Isaac. His sisters are not here at present and my youngest daughter was recently married." Mrs Stilinski answered with a tight smile.

Isaac tipped his head awkwardly.

"I had hoped to converse with your husband, but as he is gone from the house..."

"You were not expected Sir," Mrs Stilinski commented dryly, "but as my husband is only a short distance I can dispatch a servant to fetch him."

Lord Peter sniffed. "That will not be necessary I do not wish my visit to be longer than need be... You have a very small house and park." Lord Peter commented with a smirk looking about the room . 

Mrs Stilinski frowned but did not comment.

"And this must be a _most_ inconvenient room for sitting in of an evening in Summer." 

Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Why the windows are full West." He continued.

"Indeed they are your Lordship, " Mrs Stilinski sat down, "but we do not normally...."

"I noticed a pretty kind of wilderness," Lord Peter cut her off, "to one side of your lawn as we came up the drive," he stood, "I should very much like to take a turn in it, " he strode to the door and turned, "if you will accompany me Master Stiles Stilinski?"

Stiles and his mother cast a glance at each other.

Five minutes later he strode after Lord Peter as he walked with a long, purposeful stride, swinging his cane and stiff backed. They followed the course of path up the side of the lawn, under the stone arch to the overgrown garden beyond and to the wooden bench under the tree. He stopped and Stiles half expected his Lordship to sit, but he didn't, he wheeled to face him with a narrow eyed, unfriendly gaze. Stiles halted several strides from him and regarded him warily.

"You cannot be ignorant of why I have made this journey." Lord Peter said tersely.

"Indeed you are mistaken Sir, I am quite at a loss for the honour of seeing you here."

Lord Peter's eyes narrowed further. "Master Stilinski you ought to know I am not a man to be trifled with," he shook his head, " however insincere you choose to be, you will not find me so."

Stiles frowned.

"Reports of an _alarming, disquieting_ and quite frankly _disgusting_ nature have reached me. I am aware that not only is your elder sister to be most _advantageously_ married but also that you _Master Stiles Stilinski_ ," he emphasised his name, "have been in receipt of an offer of _Companionship_ from my own nephew Mr Derek Hale!" He walked around him and stood to one side. "Oh, I know it is a scandalous falsehood borne of jealousy and envy, but I resolved at once to set off for this place and make my sentiments clearly known to you!"

Stiles turned his head. "If you know it to be a falsehood Sir," he moved in front of him, "I wonder at your coming so far, what does your Lordship propose by it?"

Lord Peter glared at him. "I came at once to insist on having such a report denied by your own lips."

"Surely your Lordship coming to Beacon to see me will merely confirm the report...If indeed such a report exists." Stiles replied brusquely.

"This is not to be endured!" He swiped the ground with his cane. "Master Stilinski I _insist_ on being satisfied," he huffed. "Has my headstrong and foolish nephew or has he not made and offer to you?" He squinted his eyes.

"Your Lordship has declared it an impossibility," he shrugged, "and I would not contradict you."

"It ought not to be a possibility but Derek is of a peculiar disposition." He squinted closely at him. "Your arts and _allurements_ may have made him forget what he owes to himself, his sister and the whole family! You may have _drawn him in_ so that he forgets his own mind!" He accused.

Stiles's blood boiled. "Next your Lordship will accuse me of witchcraft!" Lord Peter gasped. "If I had _drawn him in_ Sir I should be the last to confess it to you, or anyone."

Lord Peter closed his eyes a moment and composed himself. His eyes flashed open angrily. "Do you _know_ who I am? The power I can wield? I am not accustomed to being defied or such language as this."

_You had better get used to it._ Stiles thought ruefully.

"I am almost the nearest relation Derek Hale has and as such entitled to know all his nearest concerns."

"But Sir, you are _not_ entitled to know mine!" Stiles replied defiantly. "Nor is this behaviour and attitude such as this likely to induce me to be explicit."

His Lordship stepped menacingly toward him. "Let me be rightly understood by you Sir. This alliance to which you have the gall and _presumption_ ," he spat, "to aspire will never take place. Mr Hale is engaged to _my_ daughter! What have you to say to that?"

"Only this. If it is true then neither of them seem to know of it nor care one for the other. And if I am mistaken, then you can have no grounds to suppose he would make any offers to me." Stiles made an open handed gesture.

Lord Peter looked uncomfortable.

"Their betrothal is of a peculiar nature. Since Malia's infancy they have been promised one to the other." He walked around him, his voice growing louder. "It was the dearest wish of his mother and myself that it should be so. While Malia was yet in her cradle we planned the union and it is not to be prevented by the upstart pretensions of a boy without family, connections or fortune and ambition above his station. It will not be endured! Your alliance would be an _abomination and disgrace_!" He hissed through clenched teeth. "You would be censured and rejected by the church, abandoned by society and your names never mentioned by any of the family!"

"These would indeed be heavy misfortunes." Stiles snapped back.

"Obstinate, headstrong, selfish boy! Your family should be ashamed of you!" Stiles tensed. "I am not accustomed to brooking disappointment."Lord Peter looked at him down his nose.

"That makes your Lordship's present position all the more pitiable, but I regret has no effect on me." Stiles retaliated.

"I. Will. Not. Be. Interrupted!" Peter shouted. "If you are sensible and for your own good you would do well to heed me and not attempt to quit the sphere into which you were born!"

"Lord Peter," Stiles hissed his eyes glittering brightly, "in an alliance with Mr Hale I do not see myself as quitting that sphere. He is a gentleman, I am a gentleman's son. As such we are equals."

Peter took a step toward him. "Yes, but who is your _mother_? Where is your wealth? Who is your family? Do not imagine me ignorant of their condition! Where are your connections?"

"Whatever my family and connections, if Mr Hale does not object to them then they can be of no consequence to you!"

"Tell me once and for all you wretched boy _are_ you under contract to be my nephew's Companion?!" He demanded shrilly.

For a moment Stiles hesitated, the memories of he and Derek threatened to overwhelm him and he couldn't speak. He wrapped his arms around himself.

"I am not." He answered quietly.

Lord Peter relaxed visibly and shut his eyes momentarily and smiled. "There may be hope for you yet. Will you give me your word _never_ to enter into such an arrangement with my nephew?"

Again Stiles hesitated he may as well promise, Derek was lost to him and what difference did a promise make? But he couldn't do it. "I will make you no such promise." Lord Peter gasped. "I pray of you not to importune me further on this matter." He spun on his heel and headed back along the path.

"Wait! I have not finished with you!" Lord Peter shouted hurrying after him. "Not so hasty if you please, I have other objections! Your youngest sister's infamous conduct, your house mortgaged away to Mr Daehler, I know it all!"

Stiles strode on.

"Oh to think, are the shades of Nemeton to be polluted by association with _such_ a family as your own?" He lamented dramatically.

Stiles halted and turned. "You can have nothing further to say to me Sir, you have insulted me by every means possible. I beg leave to return to the house."

Peter hurried after him. "You, you have no regard then for Miss Hale or the honour and credit of my nephew? Unfeeling and selfish boy! You do not care that their reputations will be tarnished, she will become unmarriageable. You refuse the claims on him of duty, honour, respectability."

Stiles led his Lordship to his waiting coach, halted and turned to face him. His cruel words had hit home and his heart was breaking but he would never see it.

"You are determined to ruin him." Lord Peter hissed in his face. "Make him the contempt of the world."

Stiles swallowed hard. "I am only resolved to act in such a manner that will constitute my own happiness, his and Miss Hale's. Without reference to you or to any person so wholly unconnected with me."

"Let me be clear. You refuse to promise me that if my misguided nephew approaches you with an offer of alliance you will not reject him?" His eyes narrowed.

"I will not. If the time should ever come, I will answer him honestly as my heart dictates at that time. But I have reason to believe no such offer will ever be forthcoming."

Lord Peter cocked his head to one side and regarded him closely for a moment and then with a grunt allowed the footman to help him into the coach.

Stiles closed the door and stepped away. Peter let the window down. "I take no leave of you Master Stilinski and send no regards to your parents.You deserve no such attention. Should you enter into an alliance with my nephew I will know how to proceed. Be warned, I am _seriously_ displeased with you!"

 

Stiles watched the carriage out of sight with a heavy heart.

 

 

The next morning as soon as the breakfast things were cleared away Stiles pulled on his coat and with the letter in his pocket intended to walk in to Mereton. He walked along the hall and past the library, his father stuck his head out.

"Stiles, good I was about to come looking for you. Come into the library and close the door."

Stiles followed his father inside and closed the door behind him. 

His father held up a letter and looked at him over his spectacles.

"I have had a letter do you see, came this morning and it might cause you some diversion for it greatly astonished me." He took in Stiles's dress. "Were you going out?"

"Just into Mereton, it can wait." Stiles assured his father.

"Good, good. Take off your coat and be seated, this may take a little time." Mr Stilinski encouraged with a glint in his eye.

Stiles draped his coat over a chair back and sat down. His father leaned back on his desk.

"Can you guess who the letter is from, eh Stiles?"

"No Sir." Stiles wondered what had his father in such a jolly mood.

"Cousin Daehler."

Stiles groaned."What can he have to say?"

"Well there it is...He's heard about Lydia's engagement and writes to offer his felicitations, at length..... But I will not insult you with what he says, all four pages of it."

" _Four_ pages?!" Stiles laughed.

"Yes four, but it is this will divert you......... He writes...." He searched through the letter. "Here, here......here we have it..................

_' dear cousin Stiles will not long reside under your roof it is presumed and will soon leave to begin a new life. The chosen partner of his fate may safely be referenced as one of the most illustrious persons in the country.'_

Stiles scowled and his heart quickened.

"Can you guess who he means Stiles eh? Can you guess?" Mr Stilinski grinned.

Stiles shook his head.

"Now,now it comes out.

_'My motives for cautioning you are as follows. His uncle Lord Peter looks most unfavourably on any alliance.'_ Well, there now, do you see? " His father gestured. "It appears Mr Hale is the man..... The _Mr Hale_ that never looked at you but to find fault and that you were resolved to think one of the worst villains in the country." He watched as Stiles paled and squirmed. "Now you see why I was so astonished."

Stiles swallowed hard and his body trembled.

"It is admirable. But Stiles, you do not look amused by it. Are you not diverted? Do not be churlish now and act all affronted by some idle gossip." He waved the letter."What did Lord Peter have to say on the matter? I suppose he came to refuse his consent?" 

"Cousin Daehler has obviously been incorrectly advised.... Why would I be interested in _any_ man let alone Mr Hale?" Stiles spluttered.

His father sighed and removed his spectacles, folded them and put them on his desk. This was it, time for the talk that they should have had years ago. He regarded Stiles kindly. 

"Stiles, I know you think I spend too much time closeted in here with my books and do not see what is going on about me and perhaps I do. But I do take notice of things. Perhaps not as much as I should, but you are my son.... Is there anything you want to tell me?"

Terrified of disgracing the family Stiles shook his head.

Mr Stilinski sat behind his desk.

"I am going to tell you something that I have never told to anyone else, not even your mother. " He picked up his spectacles and turned them over in his hands. "I am telling you because I want you to know and because I think it will help you."

Stiles leaned forward.

"When I was eighteen I went up to Cambridge. The financial calamity which befell your grandfather and from which we have not yet recovered, was yet to occur. I shared lodgings with a young man in vastly better circumstance to myself. The eldest son and heir to a large estate and fortune in Cheshire, his name is immaterial."

Stiles noticed a sudden sadness in his father's eyes.

"He and I quickly became firm friends, inseparable. We shared many of the same enjoyments and beliefs." He took a deep breath, put his spectacles down and looked straight at Stiles. "Within three months we had become lovers." He said quickly.

Stiles gasped, a quick intake of breath.

"I see you understand what that means." He gave a wry smile. "We were both aware of the transient nature of our relationship. We both had families, responsibilities and obligations that we could not avoid. Nevertheless for almost three years we were as close as any two human beings could be. I last saw him the day we graduated and heard that he was married within the year to a titled lady. I rejoiced at his good fortune and have never heard from him or attempted to contact him since." He looked away as Stiles watched him with awe."They were three of the happiest years of my life and before you ask, yes we loved each other." He slipped on his spectacles."And if we had not had those responsibilities I believe our lives would have been very different."

Stiles could see the pain in his father's eyes.

"What about mother?" He asked quietly.

"I met and married your dear mother some three years later and I do not and never have, regreted that decision. Although there are times when I wish we had stopped at two children." He chuckled at Stiles's horrified face. "I jest Stiles."

Stiles relaxed.

"I love your mother, more than she does me I sometimes think. It is true she is not every man's ideal wife," he shrugged "but she suits me.." He snorted and studied Stiles over his spectacles. 

"It did not astonish nor horrify me that you might have affectionate regard for another man, only that it was Mr Hale who was suggested. Do you have such regard for him?"

Stiles closed his eyes and gripped the arms of the chair. His eyelids fluttered open..... "I do." He answered barely above a whisper.

"And does he return your regard?" His father prompted gently.

"He made an offer to me to be his Companion." Stiles blushed.

Mr Stilinski spectacles slid to the end of his nose. "He did? How very presumptuous of him." There was humour in his voice. "And what did you reply?"

"I turned him down. I did not love him then."

His father's eyebrows rose at Stiles's unguarded answer. "But you do now?"

" I do," he sighed heavily, "but cousin Daehler does not have the full disclosure. We quarreled and I do not believe I will see him again." He looked down and twisted his hands in his lap.

"I believe Derek Hale to be a very determined man and not one to be thwarted.." Mr Stilinski nodded."I would be very surprised if he let a quarrel keep him from what he wants. The question is Stiles, what do _you_ want?"

Stiles's eyes flicked up to his father's face but he didn't make a reply.

Noah Stilinski sighed. "You have no estate to inherit, no great name to dishonour, no obligation to provide an heir. If you believe his offer sincere and not a passing fancy for either party, the decision is yours to make." His father said kindly.

"What about mother and my sister's? It is a sin and I would not bring more shame upon us."

"First of all, where is the sin? Many wealthy men have male companions and secretaries, if you are discreet who is to accuse you of sin? Personally I never put much store in the Old Testament myself." Mr Stilinski snorted. "And if the good Lord puts breath into a man like Theo Raeken and can forgive him his sins, then I am sure he can forgive two men for loving each other. As for your mother and sisters.What women understand by _Companion_ is generally far short of what a man may understand by it. They will content themselves that you serve in the capacity of a personal secretary, confidant and friend. I do not believe it fair to tax their brains with further enlightenment. Your mother will be beside herself with joy that you are attached to someone with an income of _ten thousand_ a year. " He rolled his eyes. "And the prospect of visiting Nemeton, nothing else will matter."

Stiles winced.

"The important thing is Stiles, do not throw something away that you may live to regret. By the same token follow your heart, accept or refuse him but do it for the right reasons." His father counseled sagely.

"I didn't always love him," Stiles looked wistful, "but I do now. He has no improper pride nor arrogance, he is perfectly amiable. He is kind, honourable and thoughtful, honest to the point of brutality." He laughed nervously."He is loyal to his friends and if only you knew of his generous nature, you would wonder at it."

"Well, well," his father nodded, "I would say you have made up your mind. I know you Stiles, you need a partner you can respect as well as love. Someone who will butt stubborn heads with you and tell you when you are wrong and yet love and treasure you." He sighed. "And from what you describe, Mr Hale sounds the man." He looked at him lovingly."I shall miss you, son."

"He has yet to come for me." Stiles warned.

"He will," his father nodded certainly, "he will."

 

Stiles spent a long time sat on his bed staring at the letter in his hands. If he posted it he was committing himself to a life in London. He could get out of it certainly, but it would be embarrassing. He couldn't help but think it would be tempting fate and giving up on any kind of life of which Derek was a part. He was due to return from London today and a few days more delay would surely not hurt? His father's caution echoed in his ears. _'The important thing is Stiles, do not throw something away that you may live to regret.'_ He would wait.

Derek didn't come. In fact Mr Parrish did not arrive until late in the afternoon and the relief on Lydia's face when he did arrive was a joy to behold. It seemed Mr Hale had sent word that he had taken a detour and would arrive back some time the following day. Stiles could hardly hide his disappointment as he watched Jordan and Lydia walking hand in hand in the garden and talking animatedly at the dinner table. His father and Lydia cast him sympathetic looks.

It didn't help.

 

The next day dragged by and Stiles tried in vain to find diversion. He was too restless to settle to read, he missed the peg every time playing quoits. He paced back and forth in the drawing room until his mother threatened to send him to his room, with demands to know what ailed him and threats of 'a good purging'. He sought sanctuary in the music room until Allison arrived to practice her music and singing. Her caterwauling drove him from the house and he sought refuge on the old swing in the barn. He had not been there since Scott had told him Lorilee intended to marry Matt Daehler, was that really a year ago? He had always gone there since childhood when things vexed him or he wanted to avoid his sisters or parents. Though it had to be said most often Lydia went with him, now he sat alone. So much had happened in a year. Erica married, Lydia engaged and he in love with a strange, handsome, mercurial man who he thought he would never get to the bottom of, but loved just the same. 

It came as a revelation that he loved him, when had it happened? It had happened so gradually that he had hardly been aware of the change in him until it was an undeniable fact. He had always been _attracted_ to him, but that was different. It was probably his attraction to him that made Mr Hale's behaviour so annoying and... _disappointing_. But love... He didn't love him when he first broached his offer to him, more than anything he was irritated by him. The change might have begun when he learnt the truth of his dealings with Raeken and certainly he thought of him _MUCH_ more kindly in Derbyshire. If he had repeated his offer then, he would most likely have accepted. But the undeniable truth was he loved him now _more_ than he did even in Derbyshire. He filled his every waking hour and he ached for his sight and touch. 

If only they hadn't quarrelled, if only Derek wasn't so rich or his own family were richer. If only Erica had more brains and sense, if only his mother wasn't such a social disaster and his father not so buried in his books, although he understood now why that might be. If only.....If only......

He was so lost in his own misery that he failed to hear the two horses trot up the drive in the late afternoon sun.

 

Lydia raised her head as they heard the front door and Jordan's familiar voice in the hall. A moment later Hill opened the drawing room door.

"Mr Parrish and Mr Hale Ma'am."

Jordan swept in all smiles and good humour followed by a grim faced Derek. Jordan bowed to the ladies and went directly to sit by Lydia and at once began to whisper to her urgently so that she nodded, smiled and glanced at Derek.

Derek scanned the room with sharp eyes and his face darkened as he registered Stiles's absence.

Mrs Stilinski glared at Derek. "You are most welcome Mr Hale to be sure." She said with a cold edge to her voice.

Derek fixed her with a firm eye. "Where is he? Where is Stiles?" He asked in a flinty voice.

She looked between Mr Parrish, Lydia, Allison, Isaac and Derek and pursed her lips. "I do not see why his whereabouts should concer...."She began to answer haughtily.

"Madam, do not test me!" Derek snapped. "I have most urgent business with your son."

Claudia's mouth dropped open.

"He is probably in the old barn," Lydia answered with a smile, "he goes there most often when he is melancholy."

Derek smiled at her and bowed. His voice and look softened. "Thank you Miss Lydia and my I add that Mr Parrish is the most fortunate of men."

Lydia inclined her head and blushed. Jordan grinned from ear to ear.

 

Derek turned on his heels and marched purposefully from the room.

"Well, how dare he? What on earth does he want with our Stiles?" Mrs Stilinski spluttered.

"Calm yourself Ma'am it is nothing to be alarmed over." Jordan soothed. "I heard of a ball to be held in the Great Hall on Saturday in Mereton. I propose that we all attend."

Allison squealed.

Mrs Stilinski clapped her hands together."What a splendid idea, I shall wear my........" Thus they were quite diverted from Stiles and Derek.

Mr Stilinski stuck his head out from the library as Derek's unfamiliar tread went down the hall and seeing it was him, ducked back inside with a grin.

Derek commandeered Hill to direct him to the old barn where Stiles sat and gently swayed on the swing, hung from one of the great oak beams and sighed. A shadow fell over him and he lifted his head to see Derek observing him with an unfathomable, though determined gaze. His mouth dropped open and he stopped swaying. Derek looked around the barn and then reached him in three, long strides. Stiles rose to his feet still holding the ropes of the swing.

Derek stood close enough that their chests almost brushed and gazed into Stiles's eyes. Stiles couldn't tell his mood, was he angry? He could understand if he was.

"If you bear me no affectionate regard then say it." Derek demanded, his voice soft though alarming. "And I will take steps to rectify the situation."

Stiles's voice caught in his throat and a shiver passed through him at the raw, sexual magnetism that emitted form the man in front of him. The air about them became a living, a sparking entity, coiling, sliding, wrapping around them. The barn fell away and there was just him and Derek.

Stiles swayed, closed his eyes a moment and then opened them. "I love you." He whispered, his eyes glistening too brightly. "With every fibre of my being." He added.

Derek released the breath he was holding.

His face softened and his eyes glowed. "You are very challenging Master Stilinski, do you know that?" He raised his hand and cupped Stiles's right cheek. "I like a challenge and I _love_ you."

"You are a challenge too," Stiles laughed lightly, "and I love you."

Derek lent in and claimed his mouth in a searing kiss, Stiles breathing hitched and longing unfurled in his belly. His arms looped around Derek's neck as Derek's arms enfolded him. They kissed for long moments and then Derek pulled back, his breathing ragged and eyes hooded.

"Will you consent to be my Companion? Live with me all the days of our lives in love, respect and friendship?" His eyes were soft and pleading and for a moment the sight robbed Stiles of his voice. Derek took his silence for reticence and frowned, his eyebrow arched. "I caution you of your words. _'If the time should ever come, I will answer him honestly as my heart dictates at that time.'_ "

Stiles's lips parted and his eyes widened as Derek quoted him. "You have spoken to Lord Peter?" He asked in a stunned voice.

"I have," Derek confirmed."My detour was to Eichen House, there to speak with my uncle and get to the bottom of my arranged betrothal to Lady Malia. He recounted in vivid detail his visit to you, indeed I doubt he will ever forget your meeting. Furthermore I now believe my mother never entered into an agreement with Lord Peter and no promise of marriage ever existed."

Stiles looked worried.

"No doubt he intended by telling you of it to turn you against me. He was horrified that it had the opposite effect." He brushed Stiles's hair with his hand. "It made me all the more determined to have you and that there was a hope of a future together."

"But Lady Malia..." Stiles said gently.

"I do not believe there ever was an agreement, except in Lord Peter's head. Certainly she and I do not care a jot one for the other and never have done. I told her so. I think Peter's disowned me but Malia smiled at me for the first time ever as I left. No doubt relieved at her lucky escape," he chuckled. So you see," he stood back and held Stiles's hands, "I am all yours, if you will have me. I warn you I am determined to have you." He grinned wickedly.

"Then so be it! I accept your offer Derek Hale and will live the rest of my days as your devoted Companion, in love, respect and friendship." To his surprise Derek yanked him to him, lifted him off the ground and swung him around. 

Their joyous laugher rang through the old barn.

 

Derek held Stiles's hand tightly as he towed him toward the house.

"I shall go directly to your father and demand he release you into my custody." Derek said firmly.

Stiles pulled him to a halt.

"I think your supposed to _ask_ nicely." He said with raised eyebrows.

"Ask?" Derek looked as if the concept of asking was a new and novel one. "Asking implies the possibility of a negative answer Stiles, and I will not accept no."

Stiles knew he should admonish him but his toes were too busy curling from the possessive tone in his voice and look in his eye.

"I do not think father would dare refuse."

Derek released him in the hall and strode toward the library door and rapped smartly and entered. Stiles wandered back into the drawing room where all eyes fell on him, but only Lydia's were questioning. He gave a nervous smile.

"And where pray is _Mr Hale_?" His mother demanded.

"He is gone to speak to father." Stiles mumbled as he sat down.

"Gone to speak to your father?" She spluttered."What possible business could Mr Hale want with Mr Stilinski?"

"I think it is of a private nature." Stiles answered.

"Private nature! And who is Mr Hale that he should have dealings of a _private_ nature with your father?!" His mother's lace cap wobbled in an agitated fashion upon her head.

"I really could not say Ma'am." Stiles cheeks flamed red and his eyes slid to a grinning Jordan and smiling Lydia.

His mother snorted.

Several minutes slid by and Stiles could hardly contain himself. He crossed and uncrossed his legs, sighed, twiddled his thumbs, crossed and uncrossed his arms, bit his nails and chewed his lip and tapped his foot.

"Stiles!" His mother exploded. "Will you _sit still_ you are tearing my nerves to shreds with your constant moving! If you cannot be still, go to your room."

It was an opportunity too good to miss and Stiles _scampered_ into the hall his family blinking after him.

He stood silently in the hall. He couldn't hear anything, not a sound from the library. He was partly relieved, at least there were no raised voices. He crept closer and pressed his ear to the door, thereby earning himself a _very_ odd look from Hill. 

He pressed closer and listened for any sound. Suddenly the door opened and Stiles found his ear pressed to Derek's chest. Derek looked at him his face alight with amusement.

"Eavesdropper's never prosper, Stiles." He growled playfully.

Stiles straightened with an _'eep'_ and made to bolt. Derek secured a tight hold on him and heaved him into the library.

"I have him secured Noah." Derek aid over his shoulder.

Stiles blinked. _Noah?_

His father looked up from pouring yet another glass of port, and from his dazed expression, he looked as though he needed it.

"Really, so soon?" Noah blinked over his spectacles.

Derek smiled as he pulled Stiles into the room and shut the door. "He was passing in the hall."

"Oh, well very good, very good." Mr Stilinski downed the port and steepled his fingers looking serious, his elbows resting on his desk. "Now Stiles, Mr Hale has demanded that I release you into his custody as his Companion. He has _impressed_ upon me in the most strenuous manner possible," his right eye twitched, "the ardent and permanent nature of his suit. In short he loves you, do you see? " He shot a glance at Derek. "Now my boy what say you? Do you want to accept his offer?" He peered over his spectacles.

Stiles cast Derek an exasperated look and thumped him on the arm, he shot a worried glance at his father. "I _told_ him to ask nicely." He huffed.

"Oh, do not worry," Mr Stilinski gave an airy off hand gesture. "I have given him my consent. Indeed Derek is the kind of man I would dare not refuse anything." He muttered.

Derek's face lit up with a bright grin. Stiles scowled at him, Derek kept on grinning.

Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Yes father," Stiles nodded, "I love him."

"Well, well, there we are then. " Mr Stilinski sniffed. "All that remains is to fix a date for your departure."

Derek pulled Stiles into a hug. "I am to be at Mr Parrish's disposal for the next few weeks whilst the wedding plans are made, so shall be resident at Lake House. It would be ideal if Stiles joined me and from there we can leave for Nemeton together."

Stiles's eyes widened. So soon?

Mr Stilinski stood. "I see no bar to it." He looked at them kindly."Life is too short to waste time away from someone you love."

"I have to pack..." Stiles protested, "and make my goodbyes to Scott and my mother, aunt Martin, Lydia, Allison, Isaac, I must write to Erica and Lorilee and aunt and uncle Cajos and.." He was swept off his feet and up into Derek's arms.

"Just bring a change of clothes, we have plenty of time to transfer your belongings over the next few weeks." Derek coaxed, "and you can write just as easily from Lake House and make your goodbyes.".

"Good idea, " Mr Stilinski rounded his desk, "you could leave today with Derek."

Stiles's heart pounded and the exhilarating sensation of true happiness rolled through him and for a moment he couldn't speak. His eyes welled with happy tears. "Thank you father."

His father drew him into a hug and stepping back kissed his forehead. 

He took Derek's hand. "You are a lucky man Sir."

"I know it." Derek nodded.

"Take care of my precious boy." Mr Stilinski blinked rapidly.

Derek smiled. "With my very life and for as long as we live." He vowed.

"Well, well, I predict you'll be very happy. Fight like cat and dog and mate like rabbits." He chuckled.

"Father!" Stiles blushed crimson. 

Derek and Noah laughed.

"I had better break the news to your dear mother, sisters and brother. Why don't you take a moment to yourselves and follow me when you will."

Mr Stilinski closed the library door behind him.

"Today, you want me to leave with you today?" Stiles asked incredulously.

"I do." Derek replied firmly. "Your father has consented, you have consented and there is nothing you can do here you cannot do as easily from Lake House. There is naught to keep you from my life and my bed."

Stiles gazed into his eyes filled with such tenderness. "Nothing." He echoed and looped his arms around Derek's neck and drew him into a kiss.

 

Mrs Stilinski loud shriek filled the air. _"Ten thousand a year! Did I not say Mr Hale was the best of men and the finest of gentlemen!"_

They never broke their kiss.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may need a tissue.

EPILOGUE

Stiles left with Derek that very evening and stayed for the next six weeks with him at Lake House. It was a happy carefree time and Lydia was able to visit Jordan often under her brother's watchful eye as chaperone.

The Parrish sister's did not join them but Miss Hale joined them for the last fortnight. She was delighted to meet Stiles's sisters and unsurprisingly struck up an instant friendship with them.

Lydia and Jordan were married from Mereton's pretty church just after Christmas. Her sister stood as bridesmaid, Derek was best man, Isaac groomsman and at Mr Stilinski insistence Stiles stood with him and gave Lydia away.

They spent their honeymoon on a grand tour of Europe which lasted four months. When they returned they resolved to live at Lake House and go to London as the fancy took them. The Parrish sisters occupied a house in Town, having lost their importance as hostesses in their brother's life.

As Jordan and Lydia left for their honeymoon, Derek and Stiles left for Nemeton. Over the weeks Stiles's life had been transported there and was awaiting his arrival. Once Kate Parrish realized she had lost really lost Derek and Nemeton to Stiles, she searched for a husband in earnest. She ended up with a Scottish Lord twice her age and a draughty castle in the North of Scotland.

Erica and Theo's marriage was tragically short lived. Four months after reaching Newcastle Raeken's regiment was posted to Northern India. As an officer he was allowed to take his wife with him and Erica was delighted to go. Only three weeks after reaching Nepal he was killed when the Maharajah's ceremonial elephant crushed him to death. The elephant was found to be entirely blameless but the Maharajah was beside himself with guilt. Erica was inconsolable.....For all of two days and then decided she didn't look good in black. When the Maharajah sent his youngest son to console her.... It was rather inevitable that they were married within two months and she went to live in a palace. Her dreams came true, she was waited on hand and foot and never returned to Britain... Much to Derek's relief....and Stiles.

Once out of Erica's influence, Allison modeled herself on Miss Hale and Lydia. She turned into a proper young lady, to the astonishment of her father. Caught the eye of Captain Steiner and a year or so after Stiles left for Nemeton, they were married.

Isaac now being the only one at home, came under the full brunt of his mother. He was not allowed to brood and forever read the Bible. His looks underwent a makeover and revealed a handsome young man.With new looks came new confidence and when a living became available that was under Derek's administration, Isaac was ordained and took up the position of Pastor, famed for his long _fire and brimstone_ sermons. He married within a year to the pretty, rosy cheeked daughter of a gentleman farmer. They went on to have three sons and a daughter.

And what of Lord Peter and Lady Malia? Lord Peter never spoke to Derek again and would not suffer his name mentioned in his presence. Disappointment weighed heavily on him and six years after Stiles moved into Nemeton he died. It was Colonel Deucalion immediately stepped into the breech. He saw to it Malia was looked after by kind and competent staff and he went weekly to check on her and administer her affairs. It was to be one of the great shocks of Stiles's life when they were married in a very quiet ceremony which only he, Derek and Cora attended. Derek gave her away and Stiles stood as bestman, Cora was bridesmaid. Despite all indications to the contrary it was a happy and successful marriage and their only son, Thomas became sole heir to Eichen House.

Mr and Mrs Stilinski lived to a great age and she passed away before he did. Eventually Stiles's father died and Beacon passed into the hands of Matt and Lorilee Daehler . Stiles was sorry to say goodbye to his old home, but rejoiced at Lorilee's security.

In the fullness of time Scott McCall inherited his father's title, The Lodge and small estate that went with it. He secured a marriage to a lady of modest means, but enough to ensure the future of The Lodge and estate. He went on to have one son, William.

But what of Stiles and Derek? The first three years of their alliance were not easy. Society's reaction was more violent than Derek had anticipated, they shunned him for taking a companion they believed far below him in status and thanks in no small part to Lord Peter. To avoid ruining Cora's chances of a good match, they spent most of it in traveling Europe. Stiles loved Italy,whereas Derek loved Greece. Cora resided in London with her aunt and Colonel Deucalion. Deucalion and Mr Parrish administered Nemeton between them. They returned home when Deucalion sent word that Cora had expressed a wish to become betrothed to Patrick Fifth Earl of Warwick and the young nobleman needed Derek's permission. When Stiles had talked Derek out of shooting him on sight. He proved to be a handsome, intelligent, honourable, good natured and easy going young man of wealth. Derek was disposed to like him as much as any man who wanted to marry his sister. More so when he was good mannered, courteous and friendly toward Stiles. Derek gave Cora away in a ceremony in London on 6th June 1802. There were over three hundred guests.

After the Earl's acceptance society's attitude mellowed toward the couple and they were welcomed into society as much as they wanted to be. They lived quietly at Nemeton and visited London when they pleased. One of Stiles's greatest memories was of his mother's first visit to Nemeton. She had eyes like saucers and was struck dumb for fully half an hour. Derek did not house her in the attic as he threatened, but she was in a room farthest possible from their own. It was noted that he spent a more than usual time out of doors during her visit.

It would be nice to say Stiles and Derek never quarreled, but with two such men you would guess I was lying. As Mr Stilinski predicted they did quarrel, often in the early years, but never seriously. And their relationship was passionate and ardent. They never went to bed angry with each other...... Sometimes they quarreled all night. But in 45 years they never spent a night apart and as old men they often said however long they were together, it wouldn't be long enough. 

They never regretted their alliance.

On 15 July 1841 Derek Hale passed away aged 73. He died peacefully in Stiles's arms with his sister, nephews and nieces at his bedside. Stiles as you might suspect was heartbroken. He survived long enough to see his beloved Derek interred in the Hale Family crypt at Nemeton. 

Stiles Stilinski passed away in his sleep on 20th July 1841. Derek was at his side waiting and they were reunited for all eternity. The Death Certificate said he _Died of a broken heart._

At Cora's insistence Stiles was interred in the Hale family crypt beside his beloved Derek. Their earthly remains united in death as in life.

Nemeton passed into Cora and Patrick's hands and in due course that of their children.

The End.

Thank you for reading and/or commenting. I hope you enjoyed it.


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